


Roller Diner

by angelsfalling16



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baz was raised by Fiona, Friends to Oblivious Idiots to Lovers, M/M, Normal AU, SnowBaz, and Simon was fostered by Ebb, because that's what I'm best at, diner au, so no Davy Dickhead, there's no room for terrible fathers in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16
Summary: Simon gets repeatedly stood up by Agatha at a diner where Baz happens to work. Baz begins to take pity on him, and he isn’t completely sure that the girl really exists. Then, Baz starts to fall for the cute lonely boy. One day, Agatha finally shows up, and nothing goes as any of them would have expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Carry On Big Bang fic! I had a lot of fun working on this fic and working with my artist @flammable-pitch. You can find her amazing artwork on Tumblr here: https://flammable-pitch.tumblr.com/post/182715231515/this-is-my-contribuition-to-the-carry-on-big-bang

** Meeting You **

**Simon**

“Do you want anything else?” My waiter – Baz, his name tag reads – asks once again.

This is the third time he has asked me this. To be fair, I’ve been sitting in this booth for the past two hours with the same milkshake in front of me, and I sat here for an hour before that with nothing.

“I’m waiting for someone,” I tell him half-heartedly.

He lowers his notepad and pencil. I don’t have to look at him to know that he is wearing a look of pity. I’ve obviously been stood up. I should probably just go home.

I start to pull out my wallet, but then he slides into the other side of the booth.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask.

“You’ve been sitting here for hours, all alone.”

“Yeah, I know that. I don’t need a reminder,” I say, drily. I start counting out dollar bills to pay for the milkshake, but he places his hand on mine to stop me.

I look up at him, and he jerks his hand away.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “But you should eat before you go. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. You have to try the food.”

“I thought that I would bring my girlfriend somewhere new since we always go to the same places.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain this to him, and I look down at the table, remembering that she didn’t show up. “I guess it wasn’t such a great idea since she never showed up.”

“Her loss,” the boy across from me says, leaning forward onto his arms. “She’s missing out on something great.”

“The food?” I ask, peering up at him curiously.

“Yeah. Right. The food.”

“If it’s that great, I guess I should eat something.”

“Yes, let me go make you something.”

“ _You’re_ going to make me food?”

“Something wrong with that?” He asks, sounding offended.

“I saw you in the kitchen earlier. I’m pretty sure you got kicked out for burning something. From what I could hear, it wasn’t the first time today either.”

The tips of his ears start to turn pink, and he leans back away from me. His long, black hair is pulled back into a low bun to keep it out of his face, and I wonder what it would look like if he wore it down.

“Fine, I won’t actually be the one who makes your food but let me order you something.”

“What are you going to order?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You don’t even know what I like.”

“You’ll like what I choose for you. Trust me.”

Wow, this guy is cocky. Who does he think he is anyway?

I think about it for a moment. I could go home hungry, or I could let this strange, yet seemingly nice, boy bring me some food. The answer is obvious.

“Okay,” I say with a sigh. “Bring me some food.”

He smiles brightly at me. Then, in a swift movement he slides out of the booth and walks over to the counter. I watch as he talks to the woman behind the counter, leaning on it as if he owns it. The woman glances in my direction before turning back to the boy and nodding. She turns to head into the kitchen, and the boy turns around and walks back to my table.

“Your food will be ready soon,” he says, sliding into the booth again.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” I ask, leaning back and crossing my arms.

He glances around the diner. “Doesn’t look too busy to me.”

I look around, too, and I see that he’s right. There are only two other people here, an older couple, sitting in a booth together and talking quietly. They look happy and in love. I hope that I can be that way someday. As I imagine this, I feel a renewed pain at being stood up.

I sink back into my seat and stare at the table, the napkin dispenser, my empty milkshake glass, anywhere but the boy in front of me. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do or say. Should I thank him for saving my night? Did he save my night? He hasn’t really done anything that isn’t his job.

I chance a look at him, expecting him to be watching me for some reason, but he’s staring out the window at the setting sun. I look away before he catches me watching him and pull out my phone. I have two text messages.

One is from my best friend, Penny. It reads: _I’m sorry that she didn’t show. Let’s meet up tomorrow and hang out. I’ll try to cheer you up._

I send her a quick reply before reading the other text.

This one is from my girlfriend, Agatha. _Can’t make it. Next time?_

I check the timestamp, and it says that she sent it three minutes ago. Not only did she not give any kind of explanation, but she also waited until three hours after we were supposed to meet to let me know that she wasn’t coming.

Before I can think of a reply, the woman from the counter skates over with my food. I slide my phone back into my pocket and look up at her as she places down a plate with a burger and fries in front of me. She is also carrying a new milkshake with her.

“Here you are,” she says kindly. “Do you need anything else?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine, thank you.”

She glances at Baz for a moment before turning and skating away.

This is supposed to be a roller diner, but she seems to be the only person who actually skates here. I wonder why that is.

I grab the bottle of ketchup and squirt a large pile onto my plate. Then, I pull off the top bun of the burger and add a large amount of ketchup to it, too.

When I look up, Baz is watching me with an amused smile on his face.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me eat?” I ask, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird?”

“Why is it weird?”

“Because you’re just sitting here watching some stranger eat.”

“No. I’m sitting here while keeping some stranger company after his girlfriend stood him up. Very different. This is less creepy.”

I fight back a smile as I pick up a fry and swirl it around in my pile of ketchup.

“So, do you do this often?” I ask him.

“What? Come here? It’s kind of my job.”

I roll my eyes at him, chewing the fry slowly.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He rests his arms on the table and leans toward me. He smiles at me, almost a sneer, and says in a low voice, “Then, what did you mean?”

He’s looking at me with this strange intensity. It freaks me out a bit, but I shake it off.

The bell of the door dings, and Baz turns his intense gaze somewhere else. I look up expectantly, part of me still hoping that it’s Agatha even though she said that she wasn’t coming. I frown in disappointment just as Baz turns back towards me. I can see the pity in his eyes.

The group of people who just walked in find a booth together near the couple on the other side of the diner, and I hear Baz sigh.

“I’ll be back,” he tells me, already standing up. “I’ll take their order, and then come back and join you.”

I nod but don’t say anything as I watch him walk away. I stare out the window at the mostly empty streets, bathed in the orange of the setting sun. It’s a beautiful night, and I should be doing anything but sitting alone in a diner, wondering why my girlfriend stood me up.

I glance back over at Baz and remind myself that I’m not completely alone.

**Baz**

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t usually give customers this much attention, and I definitely never sit down with them. At least, I never did before this boy came in and sat in that booth all alone for over two hours, waiting for a girl who never showed.

He sounded so sad when I came to check on him again that I couldn’t help but feel determined to cheer him up. He was about to leave, but I had to stop him. I couldn’t let him go home looking sad and without eating something first.

So, now I’m sitting across from him, idly playing with the salt shaker, as he eats his food. I hope that I’m not making him uncomfortable. I could just leave, but maybe that would be weirder. Why did I sit with him? I could have just insisted that he eat and then gone back to the cash register. I didn’t have to stick around.

“That is disgusting,” I tell him as he swirls a fry around in his milkshake.

He smirks at me as he puts it in his mouth and chews it slowly, making sounds of contentment as he does. No one should take that much pleasure in eating. I grimace at him, and he laughs. It’s the first time that I’ve really seen him smile since he walked in here. It’s a half-hearted one, but it’s better than nothing.

“You ever tried it?” He asks, and I realize that I’ve been staring at his mouth.

“Nope, and I never plan to.”

“You’re really missing out.”

“I really don’t think I am.”

He just shrugs and dips another fry in his shake. I look away because I can’t stand the sight of it. I catch Fiona looking my way, and I know that I will have some explaining to do tonight. She’ll want to know everything about this boy, and I’ll have nothing to tell her.

I look away, glancing around the diner, making sure that no one looks like they need anything. If my aunt wasn’t the owner, I probably would have been fired by now. I wasn’t lying, though. We aren’t busy, and I would have just been sitting behind the counter anyway, so this is a better use of my time.

He doesn’t say much of anything else while we sit there. I catch him glancing at the door a couple of more times, like he’s still waiting for his girlfriend to show up.

When he is done eating, he reaches for his wallet, but I stop him by placing my hand on his arm, not his hand this time.

“It’s on the house,” I tell him.

“That’s alright. I can pay.”

“But I can’t let you pay.”

“Why not?”

“Because I practically forced you to get food, and then I didn’t even let you choose.”

“It’s okay. I liked it.”

“Then, you can pay next time,” I say, boldly assuming that there will be a next time. My heart races as I panic over the different ways that he can read into that statement.

He hesitates for a moment before saying, “Fine.” I weakly fight a smile as he stands up and shrugs his jacket on. “See you next time, then,” he says before he walks out the door. I fight the urge to turn and watch him out the window.

I sit at the table for another minute before standing up and clearing the dishes. Fiona doesn’t say anything to me as I enter the back, and I’m glad. Maybe that means that she didn’t notice how much time I just spent sitting with a guy I don’t know. If she had, she would never stop teasing me about it.

 

** Waiting for You **

**Baz**

There are only two weeks left of school, and Fiona doesn’t allow me to work in the diner on school nights because she wants to make sure that I get my homework done. It doesn’t matter that we don’t really have any homework right now. She is staying firm on this point, so my only hope of seeing the boy again is if he comes in on the weekend.

The first weekend after his visit, I find myself constantly checking the door and the time, watching the hours tick slowly by until all of the customers leave and Fiona is locking the door. I realize that I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. He never said that he would come back soon. He never even definitively said he would be back at all. I probably weirded him out so much that he will never return. I mean it wasn’t the food. My cousin is an amazing cook, so that can’t be the reason that he would want to stay away.

The next week passes by slowly as I take my finals and try to forget about the boy. I don’t even think I got his name. I catch myself looking at the door less and less as the week passes by. He doesn’t show, and I decide to forget about him.

Now that school is out for the summer, Fiona lets me spend more time working in the diner. I prefer to work in the afternoons so that I can spend the mornings sleeping in or reading. I plan to tackle a good portion of my reading list over the next two months.

I take the book that I’m currently reading with me so that I can read it while I am on break and when there aren’t very many people in the diner.

I’ve all but forgotten the boy with bronze hair and blue eyes when Friday rolls around. I arrive at the diner just after the lunch rush has mostly passed, and Fiona puts me to work clearing away tables and wiping them down. I don’t even look up when the bell above the door rings. It isn’t until I turn around to move on to the next table that I notice who it was that walked in.

He’s sitting there in the same booth as last time, staring out the window while he waits for someone to come take his order. I see that Fiona is headed towards him, but I intercept her before she makes it to the table.

“I’ll take this one,” I say.

She raises her eyebrows at me but doesn’t say anything. She takes the spray bottle and cloth from my hand and heads back to the counter. She never did ask anything about him last time, but I’m sure that this will raise her suspicions. I’m not going to worry about that right now.

I take a deep breath and walk over to him, pulling out a notepad and pen from my apron pocket.

“What can I get for you?” I ask when he looks up at me.

“Just some water, please. I’m waiting on someone.”

I press my lips tightly together so that I don’t respond with some horrible comment about how he’s wasting his time with whoever the girl is. I nod and turn on my heel to head back to the kitchen.

I don’t know what I was expecting. Did I honestly think that he would come here to see me? That’s ridiculous. I have to shush the voice in my head that’s telling me that that was exactly what I was hoping for. It isn’t until Fiona gives me a weird look from behind the register that I notice how deeply I’m frowning. Trying to look less disappointed, I get his glass of water and return to his table.

“Thank you,” he says politely when I place it down in front of him.

I nod but don’t say anything. I continue standing there for a moment, wondering if I should say something. What can I say? I don’t even know his name. I should probably start with that.

“I—.” I begin, but then the bell above the door rings. I cut myself off and turn to look at the customer.

It’s a lone girl. She’s tall, with dark hair that brushes just past her shoulders. She has on a long, summer dress and sandals. She glances around the diner, like she’s looking for someone. Her eyes land on me and Simon, and she smiles brightly before making her way over.

My heart starts pounding as she moves closer. I haven’t done anything wrong, so why do I feel so guilty? Part of me is surprised that Simon’s girlfriend actually showed. She’s pretty; I’ll give him that. I click my pen open and shut once, nervously. I shouldn’t be nervous. I don’t even know her. Or her boyfriend for that matter. I’m just a waiter.

I press my lips together as she nears. But then, she steps around me and keeps walking. She continues until she reaches the corner booth where a group of other kids sit. They all chorus hellos to her, and scoot over to make room for her.

I turn back to the boy in the booth, my cheeks warm with embarrassment. He’s looking at me curiously, and I turn and walk away. I don’t stop walking until I’ve reached the kitchen where I stop and lean against the wall. I let my eyes fall shut for a moment and take a breath. It should have been obvious by the way I kept waiting for him to return, but I think that I might have a small crush on this guy. I don’t even know his name. I know that that’s probably the least of my problems, but it’s the only thought running through my head right now.

**Simon**

I’m not sure which one I do more, glance at the door or glance at my waiter. He just kind of disappeared after bringing me my water. He had this strange look on his face, and I was about to ask him if he was alright when he abruptly turned and left.

When he reemerges from the kitchen, he doesn’t come back over. He takes the orders of the people sitting in the corner booth behind me and brings them their food before returning to stand behind the counter. I catch him looking at me once or twice, but he doesn’t come back over to my table. I guess he’s waiting until Agatha shows up so that he can take our order.

An hour ticks slowly by, and she still doesn’t show. I constantly check my phone, waiting to hear from her. I sigh and tear a hand through my hair. She apologized for not showing up last time, so we made plans to try again. There must be something about this place. She’s never stood me up before I suggested we come here. I like it here, though, and I want her to try it at least once.

I see Baz walk by out of the corner of my eye as he carries food to a different table. I wonder if he’ll join me again if I sit here alone long enough.

Do I want him to do that?

My phone buzzes in my pocket before I can figure out the answer to that. I pull my phone out, and I sigh as I read the text message. Agatha isn’t coming. At least she only waited an hour to let me know this time.

I start pulling out some money, trying not to outwardly show how disappointed I am. Technically, the water is free, but I can’t not pay every time that I come here.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice says above me.

I look up, and Baz is standing above me. I don’t know when he got there. Wasn’t he just with a different customer?

“I haven’t got a reason to stay,” I say, looking back down.

“Oh.” I tell myself that I imagine the sound of disappointment in his voice. He doesn’t really care. He has no reason to. “The water is free, you know.”

“I’d feel bad if I left without paying again.”

“Then, don’t leave yet.”

“What? Why not?”

“Stay and eat. You can come sit at the counter if you want. It might make you feel less lonely.”

“Why? Will you be there with me?” His face turns red at my words, making me realize the different ways that they can be taken.

“I will if you want me to.” It’s my turn to blush now. Why am I reacting this way?

“Sure.” Why not? It beats leaving and going home to wallow.

**Baz**

I don’t know what to say to him. He came over to the counter, ordered some food, and then quit talking. We both did. It isn’t a comfortable silence either. He keeps checking the clock like he has somewhere to be, and I keep shifting my weight from foot to foot nervously. I’m grateful when someone else’s food is ready so that I have a reason to step away for a moment.

I take my time carrying the food to the table where a nice couple sits.

“Here you go,” I say with the smile that I reserve for these two customers in particular.

They come in here every Saturday for lunch. They’re friendly, and they are practically like family to me at this point.

“You doing alright today?” One them asks me.

“Yeah, you look like something’s bothering you.”

“I’m pretty good,” I tell them.

“You sure? Remember, you can tell us anything.”

“I’m fine,” I assure them with a smile. “Enjoy your food.”

I turn away, but one of them stops me.

“Who’s that fellow over there you were talking to?”

“A customer,” I say.

“Tell us more.”

“That’s all I know,” I tell them honestly.

“He’s good looking.”

“He has a girlfriend.”

“Hm. That’s too bad.”

I don’t know to respond without acknowledging how true that really is. I nod awkwardly and turn away as they turn their attention back to each other and their food instead of me.

By the time I return to stand in front of Simon, his food is ready. He ordered the exact same thing that I ordered for him last time.

**Simon**

This is really awkward. I need to find a way to make this less awkward. I pick up a french fry and chew on it thoughtfully, trying to think of something to say. Why is this so hard?

“Which high school do you go to?” I ask, remembering that I’ve never seen him around the halls before. I would remember him.

“The newer one. What about you?”

“The older one.”

Silence falls between us again while I eat my food, and his eyes drift all around the diner like he wishes that he was anywhere but here with me.

“That still looks really gross,” he says suddenly.

I squint at him, confused, before realizing that he’s talking about the fact that I’ve just dipped my fry into my milkshake.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you rock it.”

He grimaces at me before turning his gaze elsewhere. I finish my food, and we don’t say much else. He leaves a couple of times to go talk to other customers, but he mostly stands in front of me, not saying much.

Once my food is gone, I try to finish my milkshake slowly, not really wanting to leave yet. I don’t know what it is about Baz, especially since we aren’t talking, but I like being in his presence.

When I have no other reason to stay, I pay for my food, leaving him a tip, and reluctantly turn around to leave.

“Wait,” Baz says behind me.

I turn back to him, not sure what to expect.

“I, er, I never got your name.”

“Simon.”

“Okay. Bye, Simon.”

“See you next time, Baz,” I tell him, promising a next time. Hopefully, Agatha will be with me the next time I’m here.

**Baz**

He says it like there will be a next time, and I’m hoping that it will be without him waiting for his girlfriend. But what other reason would he have to come?

 

** I Wanna Know You **

**Simon**

A week passes, and I return to the diner on the next Saturday. Apparently, this is going to become a thing. I don’t think that I have ever frequented a place this much. Most of the tables are taken, so I take a seat at the counter, in the same place that I sat last week. There is only one other person sitting at the counter, and they are at the other end. Baz is behind the counter, and I can’t read the expression that he wears when he sees me. It isn’t the smile that I was hoping for, though.

“Are ready to order, or are you waiting for someone?” Baz asks.

“I’ll take a milkshake and fries.” I say, not exactly answering his question.

Baz shakes his head. “I cannot allow you to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll mix them together, and I cannot watch you do that again.”

“Who says you have to watch?”

Baz presses his lips together, knowing that there’s no way out of it. “Fine. I’ll be back in a moment.”

After giving me my food and making sure that no one else needs anything, he leans against the counter beside me and starts reading a book. I try not to stare at the side of his face, but he’s really close. His hair is loose today, meaning that he either hasn’t been working in the kitchen yet or he hasn’t been made to pull it back. With all the product in it, it’s pulled out of his face enough anyway.

His dark olive skin looks soft, and I imagine reaching out to touch it. I imagine what it would be like to reach out and trail my fingers down his cheek and moving them over to run through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up. I don’t know why I imagine this. I don’t know why I can’t stop staring at him either. I don’t stop, though, and he catches me.

“Do you need something?” He asks, arching a brow.

“Uhh,” I say, feeling my cheeks warm. “You should try this.” I hold up a fry in front of his face.

“I’ve tried the fries before,” he says slowly, giving me an odd look.

“But you haven’t tried it dipped in a milkshake before,” I smirk at him.

“That’s because I already know it’s gross.”

“And you’re wrong.”

“I doubt it.”

“Come on. Just try one.”

“No thanks.”

“Your loss,” I say, shrugging.

He has an odd smile on his face when he turns back to reading his book. I find myself trying to chew my food slowly so that I don’t have to leave. I could probably stay, but that would be weird. I would be just sitting here, watching Baz read. Which is what I’m doing now. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of his face. His pink lips, his dark lashes.

He turns to look at me, and I look down at my food quickly, hoping that he didn’t notice me staring at him. Again. I don’t understand this. There’s a strange feeling in my stomach that seems to be caused by him leaning so close to me. It isn’t a bad feeling exactly, but I have no idea what it means.

I go back to eating and only catch myself staring at him two more times. When I’ve all but licked the plate clean, it’s time for me to leave. I pull out my wallet and count out the exact change before adding a couple of dollars for a tip.

“I’ll see you later, Baz,” I say, standing up.

He looks up from his book and frowns. It only lasts for a moment before one side of his mouth turns up in a half smile. “Bye, Simon.”

**Baz**

It’s hard to concentrate on my book when he’s staring at me like that. My heart is pounding, and I have to pretend like he isn’t affecting me. I pretend to read while I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He doesn’t notice me watching him like I notice him. He’s outright staring at me. He’ll look away, but his eyes eventually travel back to me, like he can’t stop himself.

I tell myself that it doesn’t mean anything, but my heart isn’t listening to reason. He’s cute and he’s paying attention to me, so this stupid crush probably isn’t going anywhere. I bite down on my lip and force my eyes back to my book, where I keep them until Simon is suddenly standing up, ready to leave.

I realize that I don’t want him to leave yet, but there isn’t a way for me to ask him to stay. Not without it being weird. We didn’t even talk. I just stood here, pretending to read and ignoring the other customers, as we both secretly - or not so secretly - watched each other. I regret not trying to start a conversation, but I don’t know how to talk to him.

Once he’s gone, I realize that he’s left me a tip that is far too large, just like he did the last time that he was here. He’s way too generous, and I feel almost guilty for accepting this money from him. I’ll have to find a way to pay him back.

 

** The Common Factor is You **

**Baz**

I’m disappointed when Simon doesn’t return the next weekend. I’ve gotten so used to him coming that I wasn’t expecting him not to. The diner seems empty without him, and I don’t know what to do with myself. There are plenty of other customers to help out, but none of them are him. I don’t want to flirt with them or try to make them laugh. None of them make my heart race when they look at me. None of them are the person that I’m hopelessly crushing on.

On Wednesday afternoon, I’m in for a surprise. I look up at the door when the bell rings and in walks Simon. I’m surprised to see him here in the middle of the week, but I’m also happy to see him. That is, I’m happy until I see that he isn’t alone. There is a girl with him. I know for sure that she’s with him this time since he turns and says something to her before they sit down in his usual booth.

I consider having Fiona go take their order so that I don’t have to face Simon and the person who is most likely his girlfriend, but then I would have to explain why I don’t want to go over there. I sigh and walk over to them. Simon looks up at me and smiles, making my heart skip a beat. Damn it. I’ve got to get this under control. Especially if he’s here with his girlfriend.

Speaking of, the girl looks up at me. She isn’t quite frowning, but she definitely isn’t smiling either. I wonder if Simon has told her about me. I doubt it, but if he had, I wonder what he would have said about me.

“You finally showed,” I blurt out.

“Excuse me?” The girl asks.

“You’re Simon’s girlfriend, right?”

“Uh, no. We’re just friends.”

“This is Penny,” Simon explains. “My best friend.”

“Oh. Are we waiting for someone else then?”

“Nope. It’s just us today.”

“Okay, good. I mean, not good. I just meant—.” I cut myself off before I can dig myself any deeper into this hole.

The girl – Penny – is watching me with raised brows and an amused expression, and Simon looks like he is trying really hard not to laugh. I am making a fool of myself. I’m not usually this nervous around Simon - or really ever - but there’s something about him being here with a friend. It’s like I feel the need to try to impress her or get her to like me because if she doesn’t, Simon might stop coming here.

“I’m Baz,” I say after an awkward pause.

“I’m Penelope. Simon has told me quite a bit about you.”

“Oh, really?” I want to ask what he said, but I don’t.

Simon turns toward the window, embarrassed, but I can still see the heat rushing to his face.

“He insisted that I come here with him.”

“Penny,” Simon hisses.

She smirks at him but stops talking.

“What can I get for you?”

“Milkshake and fries,” Simon says.

“Seriously?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s gross.”

“You still haven’t tried it.”

“And I don’t plan to.”

“Come on. I think you’ll love it if you just try.”

“And I think you’re wrong.”

“But the customer is always right.” He’s smirking at me, and it makes my heart beat faster. How can one person be this cute?

Penny clears her throat, reminding me that there is someone else here.

“I’ll have the same thing. Simon has some pretty gross food habits, but this one is actually good.”

I shake my head at them before turning and walking to the kitchen.

**Simon**

“How often do you come here?” Penny asks while we eat.

I shrug. “Just like once a week or so. Not that much.”

“That seems like a lot, Simon.”

I don’t know how to respond to that. I glance over at the counter where Baz is standing. He’s reading his book and doesn’t look up, so I look back down at my food. A part of me wishes that Penny wasn’t here so that he would come over here and sit with me, and then a part of me feels guilty for wishing that.

I love hanging out with Penny, and we haven’t been able to hang out that often since school let out for the summer. It just feels a little strange coming to the diner and not hanging out with Baz. I didn’t realize how much I had gotten used to that until now.

“Simon,” Penny says, and I don’t think it’s the first time.

“What?” I ask, looking up.

She frowns at me, then glances in the direction of the kitchen.

“So, that’s Baz.” She isn’t asking a question. “He does have nice hair.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “I—. Th-that’s not—. I mean, yeah, it’s nice, but don’t let him know that I said that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“It would be weird.”

“Only if you make it weird.”

“I—.” Baz walks by on his way to another table, and I stop talking.

Penny gives me a strange look, and I just shrug and stare down into my milkshake.

**Penny**

Simon is acting strangely. He seems nervous and won’t sit still. His eyes keep drifting to our waiter, like he wants to go over and talk to him.

Simon did tell me about Baz, but he only told me about how nice he had been when Agatha stood him up. (I still think that they should break up. They aren’t really a couple anymore anyway. They would be happier apart.)

I had no idea what I was walking into when I told Simon that I would come to this diner with him. I didn’t realize that there was so much between him and Baz. I don’t know what it is, though. They’re dancing around each other, not saying much, but the way that they look at each other when the other isn’t looking says so much. The two of them need to talk and air things out, just like Simon and Agatha do.

The common factor here is Simon, and he has never been very good with his words. Plus, he likes to avoid conflict when he can even if he doesn’t always succeed. Maybe he just needs a little push in the right direction, but I don’t know what that direction is with Baz. All I know is that Simon comes here an awful lot, and it can’t just be for the food.

 

 

**Rolling and Falling (For You)**

I step into the diner, aware that I’m dripping water all over the checkered floor but unable to do anything about it. I slide into the nearest booth without looking to see who is working today. I’ve never come here on a Tuesday before, so I don’t know if Baz will be working or not.

Of course, he is, and he is also the one who comes to take my order. He doesn’t even attempt to hide the smirk when he sees me. At least he doesn’t laugh.

“May I take your order?” He asks, pen poised over his notepad. “Or do you need something that’s not on the menu? Like a towel or perhaps a change of clothes?”

He laughs, and I let my head fall on the table with a groan. “Shut up,” I mumble, which only causes him to laugh more.

“Okay, but seriously. Did you see the rain and think to yourself that yes, today is the day you’ll go out without an umbrella?”

I lift my head up off the table to see that the smirk has still not left his face.

“It wasn’t raining when I began walking here.” I say. “It was sunny when I left my house.”

It was sunny and dry one moment, and the next, the sky had clouded over, and I was drenched. It was too late to turn back. It was quicker to just continue on to the diner.

“Wait, you walked here?” He asks, sounding surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t your house pretty far from here?” He asks.

I shrug. It only takes about thirty minutes to walk here.

“Do you always walk?”

“No. I get a ride most of the time.” Usually, Ebb drops me off here or somewhere nearby, and Penny drove me last week when we came together. It seemed like such a nice day earlier, so I decided to walk. I obviously made a mistake.

“Hey, Baz,” the woman behind the counter calls. “Come here a minute.”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he says, the smirk morphing into his service smile.

**Baz**

“Yes, Fiona?” I ask as I reach the counter.

“Your friend alright? Looks like he got soaked.”

“Yeah, he walked here.”

“In this weather?” I shrug. “You have a spare change of clothes in the back, right?” She asks.

“Yes,” I say, not sure what that has to do with anything right now.”

“You’re a bit taller, but they should be fine.”

“Be fine for what?” I ask, still not catching on.

She looks at me like I’m quite dim, and I’m not sure what to say.

After a moment, she sighs and says, “Take him upstairs, and let him dry off and change into some dry clothes. The key is where it always is.”

“Oh, okay.” I slide my notepad into the pocket of my apron. I just stand there for another moment, though, trying to figure out how to do this without it sounding weird. I don’t really know Simon all that well. Would it be strange if I offered him some of my clothes to wear? We’ve barely talked before, and now we’re suddenly going to be sharing clothes?

When Fiona clears her throat, I finally walk back over to where Simon is sitting.

“Hey,” Simon smiles up at me. My eyes track a drop of water as it drips down from his hair and runs down his neck.

“Hi,” I say quietly, licking my lips. My mouth suddenly feels dry. I clear my throat and try again. “I, er, have some clothes that you can change into so that you aren’t so wet.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just get wet again soon. I have to walk back home.”

“No, you don’t,” I blurt out, unable to stop myself.

“What?” He asks, crinkling his eyebrows.

“I mean, I can give you a ride if you want. That way, you don’t have to walk through the rain again.”

“I don’t want you to go out of your way.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be fine really.”

“Seriously? You’d rather walk through the rain again than let me give you a ride?”

“I—.” He cuts himself off and runs his hand through his wet curls while he thinks this over. Finally, he sighs and says, “if it really isn’t a bother, that’d be nice.”

“Okay. Now, follow me. I have some dry clothes that you can change into upstairs.”

I lead him across the diner, to where the jukebox sits. There are a set of stairs to the left of the kitchen that lead up to an apartment above the diner. I haven’t been here in a long time. I lift the chain that keeps out the customers, and we walk quietly up the stairs, where I unlock the door.

I don’t look around as I lead him through to a small bedroom where I have some old clothes in a dresser. I haven’t been up here in so long and never really came up here much at all, but being up here reminds me of my mom. I hand him a pile of clothes and a plastic bag that I found lying on the ground.

“You can put your wet clothes in here after you change, and the bathroom is over here,” I tell him as I lead him across the hall. “There should be some towels under the sink. I’ll wait out here for you.” I tell him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and I nod once before closing the door to give him some privacy.

I lean against the wall with my eyes closed while I wait for him, wanting to avoid looking around this apartment too much. When he opens the door, the first thing that I notice is his hair. He must have tried drying it with a towel because it’s even messier than before. I let my eyes fall down his body, taking in the sight of him wearing my clothes. They shirt fits nicely, and the pants aren’t too long on him. He looks good in them actually.

I pull my eyes back up to his face and find a small smile on his face.

“So, there’s an apartment above the diner, but no one lives here?” He asks when neither of us move to leave, the light in the bathroom the only source of light here.

“Yeah, my mom and aunt grew up here. My grandfather opened up the diner downstairs, and when he died, it went to them. Now, it’s just my aunt. She didn’t like living here alone, so she lives in an apartment about ten minutes from here.”

“Your aunt is the one who rides the roller skates, right?”

“Yeah.” I’m worried that he’ll start asking about my mom, but luckily, he doesn’t.

“Why is she the only one?”

“What?”

“No one else rides roller skates even though it’s a roller diner.”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t think any of the others are very good at it.”

“I could teach you how.”

“How to what?”

“Roller skate. It’s fun.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, it will be fun.”

“It’s raining.”

“I didn’t mean today obviously. Another time.”

“I’ll think about it.”

His smile brightens, and that alone makes me want to give roller skating a try, which I guess is how we end up at the apartment complex where Fiona and I live on Saturday. I don’t know why I agreed to go roller skating, but I can’t back down now.

**Simon**

My hand is on his elbow, steadying him, as I walk along beside him. With him being the only one of us wearing skates, he towers even more above me. He pushes one foot forward and barely moves. Then, he tries again with the other foot, moving a bit more this time.

“Remember to push your foot out to the side a bit,” I instruct.

We’ve been at this for about half an hour, skating up and down the sidewalk behind his apartment building. He almost gave up after he fell on his butt when he pushed his foot out too far the first time. Now, he’s been a little too careful and is barely moving.

“There you go,” I say encouragingly as he pushes forward again.

He keeps going, pushing forward slowly with each foot, until we reach the part where the sidewalk turns and heads toward the parking lot. He puts the toe of his right foot down to stop himself like I taught him.

I move around to stand in front of him, and he grips my shoulders as I hold onto his elbows, helping him to turn around slowly. It isn’t easy to turn like this, but he isn’t skilled enough to turn while he is still moving. He’s careful not to step on my feet as we turn slowly. He wavers, tilting forward, but he manages to keep himself from falling by putting down the toe of his shoe. His face is close to mine now, and I can hear his breathing. I look back down at our feet, not sure why this feels weird and not taking the time to think about it. If I did, I probably would have noticed the way that my heart races when his eyes drift down to my lips for a brief moment.

We finish turning, and I take a step back.

“Do you want to try skating without me holding onto you now?” I ask him.

He bites his lip thoughtfully before shaking his head. “Not yet.”

I nod and move back to stand beside him. He skates back across the sidewalk, gaining speed as he goes. He can’t move too fast, though, or I’ll have let go. I remind him how to come to a stop and tighten my grip when he looks like he is about to lose his balance. He comes to a stop nicely, and I smile at him. He gives me a small smile, and he looks proud of himself. He should be because he’s picked this up faster than I thought he would.

I help him turn around again and ask him, “ready to try it on your own?”

“I think so,” he says, taking a deep breath.

I let go of him and step off to the side, not too far away from him, just off the edge of the sidewalk.

“I’m right here,” I remind him as he pushes his right foot slowly forward.

He continues on, moving slightly faster with each movement, until he is moving along at a decent speed. I jog along beside him in case he needs help until we start to near the end of the sidewalk.

“Remember,” I call to him, “to stop, let your right foot fall behind your left and drag the toe of it on the ground so that you slow down.” He does as I’m saying, and it looks like he has the hang of it. “Make sure that you lean your—.” Before I can finish telling him to lean his weight on his back foot, though, he tilts forward, losing his balance, and lands on the ground. His impact with the ground is hard, and it looks like he skids on it a bit before stopping. I run over to him to see if he is alright.

**Baz**

He’s leaning over me, trying to make sure that I’m okay. All I did was scrape my knees. It hurts a little, but I will live. I roll over and push myself up into a sitting position, which is difficult to accomplish while I’m still wearing rollerblades, and I come face to face with him.

My breath shortens, or maybe it was already short from the fall. I’m not sure why but being this close to him makes me think of things that I have been trying very hard not to think about. Kissing him for instance. His lips are right there. If I had sat anymore forward, I probably would have collided with them. Part of me wishes that I had.

He hasn’t made any move to back away. The only sign that he even realized our proximity was the widening of his eyes. His simple, blue eyes. I could stare at them all day.

I clear my throat and look down at my knees. The knees of pants are shredded, and I sadly think about how they were my favorite pair. Beyond the new holes in my jeans, I see blood slowly seeping out up through them.

I attempt to bend my knee to bring my feet closer so that I can take off the rollerblades and stand up, but I soon as I start to move, I hiss in pain. I honestly didn’t think that I had gotten that hurt, but I can feel it now.

“I’ve got you,” Simon says.

I think that he means that he’ll help me take the skates off, but that isn’t what he does at all. I feel one of his arms snake carefully under my knees and the other underneath my shoulders. Then, he stands, taking me with him.

I had no idea that he was strong enough to lift me. I want to protest, to tell him to put me down, but the pain in my knees wins over. It’s a short walk back to my apartment anyway. It’s a good thing that we live on the ground floor. I don’t think he could have managed the stairs while carrying me.

“Key?” He asks simply once we reach my door.

“You can put me down now,” I tell him as I fish my key out of my pocket. He shakes his head, so I reach out to unlock the door while he keeps ahold of me.

Simon uses his foot to nudge open the door and carries me over to the couch. He turns back to shut and lock the front door, and I shift on the couch, wishing that I didn’t feel so helpless at the moment.

“Where’s the bathroom?” He asks.

“Down the hall, first door on the right,” I tell him, pointing.

“I’ll be right back. Sit still.”

He returns less than a minute later with a wet cloth, and I realize that he doesn’t plan on letting me take care of myself.

“Do you want me to remove the skates for you?” He asks, and I nod. It isn’t like I have any other choice.

He gently unlaces them and pulls them off, careful not to jostle my legs too much. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief at having them off. He then moves closer to my knees and just stares at them for a moment. I can practically hear the sounds of his brain churning out thoughts.

“This is going to be difficult to do with these pants on,” he says quietly.

I’m not sure whether he is talking to me or just talking aloud. I feel my cheeks start to warm, but I try to ignore it. I hope that he isn’t asking me to take my clothes off now. I don’t think that I could handle that right now. Or ever. Not with him in the room.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Help me to the bathroom, and I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” he says quickly. I frown at him in confusion, and he seems to be surprised by it, too. “I mean, I’ll help. Let me go get you some shorts or something. Just tell me where they are.”

“I’ve got it,” I tell him, and I move my legs of the couch and try to stand up. The pain in my knees is too much to ignore, and I end up sinking back into the couch.

“No, you don’t,” he says, helping me lift my legs back onto the couch. “Now, let me help.”

“Fine,” I sneer. “My room’s the one after the bathroom, and my shorts are in the third drawer of my dresser.”

He nods, and quickly moves away. He is back almost as quickly as he was from the bathroom. I’m relieved because it means that he didn’t take time to look around my room.

“Here,” he says, holding out a pair of black athletic shorts.

“You’re not going to try to help me dress, right?” I ask him, worried.

“Uh, no. I’ll just go sit in the bathroom, and you can call me when you’re dressed.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. Simon undressing and redressing me would not bode well for well-being.

It is a slow, painful process getting my pants off and shorts on. My jeans try to stick to the blood on my knees, and it hurts to peel them off. I cannot ask Simon for help, though. It would be humiliating, so I just suffer through the pain and vow to never go rollerblading again.

**Simon**

I wet the cloth again and wring out the excess water a couple of times while I wait. I don’t know why I feel so nervous right now. My hands are shaking slightly, and my heart is racing.

I can’t even believe that I managed to carry him here. I just felt worried and guilty for making him skate because he got hurt because of me, and I wanted to help him. I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into here, offering to clean him up when he is capable of doing it himself. He probably thinks that I’m weird now. Or he hates me.

He calls my name, and I take a steadying breath, wetting and wringing the washcloth out one more time before heading back out to the living room. He’s still stretched out across the couch but now he’s wearing baggy shorts instead of tight jeans.

I move to sit down by his feet, but I’m not close enough to be able to do much good, so I slowly and carefully scoot forward, between his legs. I hear him breathe in sharply, but I don’t look up. There’s this strange feeling in my stomach, but I ignore it and try to focus only on his knees and the damp cloth that I’m holding.

He hisses as the cloth touches his knees.

“You should have worn the knee and elbow pads that I brought you.”

“I would have looked ridiculous in them,” he says as I continue to wipe away the blood. I bet he would have looked good in them. He seems impossible of looking bad in anything. I don’t say that out loud, though.

“And what? You prefer having me sitting here, cleaning the blood off of you?” I still feel bad, but I did bring protective gear for him, and he refused to wear it.

His cheeks turn red, and he looks away. He doesn’t respond, so I finish wiping away the blood and move on to his other knee.

**Baz**

Fuck me. Simon is sitting between my legs, and I have to breathe deeply to keep myself from reacting. His left hand is warm where it rests on my leg, and his right hand is gentle as he tries not to hurt me while he wipes the blood away. It isn’t that bad, and I could have done it myself. But he was being rather insistent, and it’s nice having him care for me. Maybe it’s a little too nice.

I stare at the wall and try not to think about how close he is. It’s driving me crazy, but I don’t want to scare him off. I hate worrying about how he would react if he knew that I was gay. I don’t want a repeat of what happened when I came out to my father, so it isn’t something that I just tell people. I have told my aunt and closest friends, but I prefer to keep quiet about it until I know for sure that I can trust someone not to turn on me.

I don’t know Simon that well, and I don’t even know how I feel about him exactly. Except that I look forward to seeing him. And I love his smile. And I love his freckles and moles. And his laugh. Oh, his laugh. The lightest sound in the world. I can’t help but smile when I hear it. He’s adorable, and I don’t want to fall for him. I don’t want to get my heart broken by him. I want to be his friend.

**Simon**

When I finish wiping away the blood, I examine his knees. They are all scraped up, but it doesn’t look as bad as it did before.

“Your knees have stopped bleeding, but if you have some band aids, I can go get them.”

“That’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

He places his hands on the couch and tries to push himself up into more of a sitting position and winces. He raises one of his hands to glare at it, and I see that his hands are red, too. They aren’t really bleeding, though.

 “Why didn’t you tell me that you had scraped your hands, too?”

“I was too busy worrying about the blood gushing from my knees.”

“It was not gushing.”

He tries to tell me that he’s fine, but I ignore him, edging slightly forward and taking one of his hands in mine. It’s only slightly scraped up, but it’s an angry red color. My eyes drift up to his grey ones, and I can’t read the expression on his face.

We hold eye contact as I gently rub a clean corner of the cloth along the palms of his hands, trying to remove the dirt and gravel from them. His hand is smooth in mine, and his eyes are a dark grey, like clouds on a stormy evening. I finally look away when I move on to clean his other hand.

When I’m finished, I pull my hand away slowly and sit back, moving out from between his legs. He clears his throat quietly and moves his legs so that his feet are on the ground. It doesn’t look like the movement hurts him too much now, so that must mean that his knees are feeling better.

“So, you live here with your aunt?” I ask, trying to fill the silence.

“Yep.”

“Where are your parents?” I don’t mean to sound nosy, but it’s too late to unsay it. It hangs between us, and we don’t make eye contact with each other.

“My father kicked me out a couple of years ago, and my mom died when I was little.” He says it matter-of-factly, but I can see the pain that is hidden behind his eyes.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. I like living with my aunt.”

We’re quiet again. It’s different being around him when it is just the two of us. It’s quiet.

“Well, that’s enough skating for me for a lifetime,” he says after a moment. “I’ll drive you home.” I can’t help but feel like he’s kicking me out. I wouldn’t blame him if he was.

“With your scraped-up knees? You can barely stand.” I know that I’m making way too big a deal out of it, but I don’t want to bother him. My house really isn’t that far, and I can call Ebb to come get me if I need to.

“I’m fine, Simon. Seriously, I didn’t get that hurt. Let me drive you.”

“If you’re sure you’re alright.”

“I am,” he insists with a small curve of his mouth. “I do appreciate your concern, though.”

I return the smile and let him take me home.

**Baz**

When Fiona gets home later that night, she comes into my room, where I’m sitting on my bed, reading. She knocks on the door jamb lightly to get my attention.

“Hey,” she says when I look up. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I say simply, not going into any detail.

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Not really.”

“You hung out with Simon today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you do?”

I look down awkwardly. “He tried to teach me how to skate.”

“Really?” I just nod. “I’ve been trying to get you to let me teach you how to skate for years.”

I feel my cheeks burn because she’s right. I never cared enough to want to learn to skate.

“That’s interesting.”

“What is?” I ask, finally looking up at her again.

“Just that he was able to get you to try when I wasn’t. Did you have fun?” She asks after a pause.

“I guess. I fell and scraped up my knees, so we stopped.”

“That would explain it.”

“Explain…what?” I ask, confused.

“One of the neighbors said that they saw some strange boy carrying you in here bridal style.”

I sigh and feel my cheeks grow impossibly warmer. The neighbors are always willing to spread gossip, especially when it’s something that they can tell Fiona about. They’re all always trying to vie for her attention, like she’s famous or something.

“Oh,” I say finally, blushing like a nervous bride that I was just compared to. I hate how easily I blush, especially when it comes to anything about Simon.

“You’re alright, though?” She asks softly. Even when she’s teasing me, she worries.

“I’m good,” I assure her.

She nods, then says, “I’d like to meet this boy sometime.”

“He comes to the diner all the time,” I say, managing to keep my voice steady.

“That’s why I want to meet him properly. I want to get to know your new friend.”

“We’re just friends.” I’m unsure why I felt the need to clarify that, and it doesn’t escape Fiona that it was unnecessary either.

“I’m sure that’s all you are. He has a girlfriend, right?”

I feel a pang in my chest at being reminded of that fact. “Right,” I say quietly.

She heads to the door but turns back and says, “You seem really happy, Basil.”

She walks out of the room before I can process the mysteriousness of what she just said or think up some response. It seems like such an odd thing to say, but maybe she was commenting on how happy I seem around Simon.

 

** Time with You **

**Simon**

It’s been a few days since the last time that I saw Baz, and I still feel bad about him getting hurt. I hope that he’s okay and that he doesn’t hate me for making him roller skate. He was really kind when he drove me home, but he was also kind of quiet, like he was stuck in his thoughts. That, or he didn’t want to talk to me.

It’s Wednesday, and I wasn’t going make a habit of coming here during the middle of the week, but I didn’t have anything to do today, so I decided to come and spend the afternoon hanging out at the diner. After I finish eating, I switch from drinking a milkshake to drinking a coke and pull my sketchbook and pencils out of the bag that I brought with me. I glance around the diner, trying to decide what I want to draw before getting started.

I turn sideways in the booth so that my feet are propped up on the cracked red vinyl. I’ve barely begun sketching out the outline when I see Baz slide into the opposite side of the booth out of the corner of my eye. He doesn’t say anything at first, waiting for me to look at him.

“Mind if I sit here?” One corner of his mouth is turned up slightly, and I guess that he isn’t angry. I’m glad.

“Aren’t you already sitting there?” I ask.

“Yeah, but I’ll leave if you want.”

“No,” I say quicker than I mean to. “I mean, I don’t mind.”

He smiles lightly at me before opening his book and beginning to read. After a few minutes, I decide to break the silence and try to apologize to him.

“How are your knees?” I ask, my eyes not leaving my sketchbook. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not really. It stopped hurting after a couple of days.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I pause for a moment, then glance over at him. He’s still looking at this book. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

“For what?” He asks, looking up at me, his eyebrows pulled low over his eyes.

“That you got hurt.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s my fault that you went roller skating, so it kind of is my fault.”

“I didn’t have to say yes. Plus, I had fun.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. I thought that he would have hated it after he fell.

“Yes,” he says, and it looks like he’s trying to fight back a smile.

“Does that mean you would want to try again?” I ask, only half joking.

“I don’t think so,” he says, frowning a bit now.

“Okay.” I don’t what else to say. He doesn’t say anything either, and after a weird moment where we just stare at each other, I finally look back down.

I turn back to my sketch, he goes back to reading his book, and we fall back into a comfortable silence.

This is how things start to go between us. I come in and eat, and then he joins me on his break. He reads while I draw. I notice him trying to get a look at what I’m drawing sometimes, but I keep it angled so that he can’t get a very good look at it. I’m keeping it a secret for now in case I decide to give it to him someday when I finish it. These moments are nice between us because we don’t have to talk, but we also aren’t alone. We talk occasionally and learn new things about each other, but most of time, we just enjoy the silence.

There are a few times when he asks whether Agatha is coming, but after a while, he drops the subject, realizing that she will never show. He probably thinks that I made her up. I don’t tell him that I stopped inviting her a while ago. I don’t want him to know that I come here twice a week just for the chance to talk to him. He would probably think that it was weird. So, we keep to ourselves, just enjoying each other’s presence as the summer passes by.

*******

I come into the diner again on the following Saturday. Penny is with me again this time. She wanted to take me out to celebrate my birthday, which isn’t until tomorrow. She insisted that we go to the diner even though I told her that I didn’t care where we went. She said that she wanted to take me to one of my favorite places on my birthday. I didn’t even realize that this is one of my favorite places to go until she said that, but she’s right. I love this place.

It’s just me and Penny hanging out today. We invited Agatha along, but she said that she already had plans. I tried not to be crestfallen that she didn’t want to take part in my birthday celebration. I’m getting used to her not being around now because she doesn’t ever seem to want to hang out anymore. I know that we should probably talk about this, but I don’t want to. I don’t want things to change.

When we enter the diner, we head to the usual booth. I’ve been here often enough to have a ‘usual booth.’ I’ve also been here often enough that the older couple that also comes every Saturday waves and smiles at me when they see me. I wonder for a moment if I maybe come in here too often but quickly push that thought aside.

Penny is glancing around the diner, and she’s been acting kind of weird ever since she picked me up from my house earlier. I give her a questioning look, but she ignores me. After a moment, she smiles brightly, which is a bit unusual for her. I turn to see what she’s looking at, and that’s when I understand.

Baz is walking toward us, carrying a cake box. He sets it down on the table with a smile and lifts the lid. He turns it toward me, and I see that it says _Happy Birthday, Simon_ in neat, cursive writing.

I look up at him in disbelief. “What? But how did you know?”

“Penelope told me.”

I look over at her, and she’s grinning widely like she’s just done something brilliant.

“You didn’t have to buy me a cake,” I tell him.

“I didn’t. I baked it.”

“I—. But—. I mean—.” I can’t believe it. Why would he do something so kind? Why would he even want to? Why would anyone want to take the time to do something like this for me?

Baz is still smiling at me, and I smile back at him.

“Thank you,” I finally manage. “I love it.”

**Baz**

“Happy birthday, Simon.” I tell him.

He’s still smiling at me, and it’s as bright as the sun. He’s beautiful, and the way he’s looking at me makes my heart race.

“So,” I say slowly, trying to move the attention away from me a bit. “What do you want for lunch?”

“Fries and milkshakes,” Penny says.

I sigh but don’t make any remarks. I given up on trying to change their mind about this.

“Is that all you want?” I ask.

“Yep,” Simon says.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

When I return with the milkshakes and a giant plate of fries for them, Simon has placed the lid back on the cake box and pushed it aside.

“Here you go,” I say, placing his milkshake in front of him. “Enjoy.”

“Wait,” Simon says, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around my wrist to keep me from leaving. I try not to give away how much it’s affecting, sending a hot flame over my skin. “Do you have time to sit with us?”

I think about it for a moment. I don’t want to barge in on his birthday celebration,but he did invite me.

“Yeah, let me just go tell Fiona I’m taking my break.”

Fiona says that I can sit with them as long as I like. I think that she’s happy that I’m making more friends instead of only hanging out with Dev and Niall all the time. I remove my apron, and take my hair out of its low ponytail before returning to their table. I also bring along a knife to cut the cake, some plates, and my own milkshake.

As I approach the table, Simon scoots over so that I can sit beside him. I sit as close to the edge of the bench as I can without it being weird. I don’t want to sit too close to him for fear that he could hear my heart pounding in my chest because of how close we now are.

“Fries?” Simon, ever the one for words, says, gesturing at the plate in the middle of the table.

I pick one up and chew it slowly while I listen to them talk and watch them dip their fries in their milkshakes. They seem to really enjoy it, so I decide that maybe I’ll try it while their attention is elsewhere. I pick up a fry and dip it into my milkshake, slowly stirring it before taking a bite. I chew it slowly, wondering at the different tastes in my mouth.

It’s a strange mixture of salty and sweet, hot and cold. I hate to admit it, but it’s actually kind of good. I reach out to pick up another fry and notice that Penny and Simon have stopped talking. In fact, Simon is staring at me wide-eyed.

“What?” I sneer.

“You actually tried it.”

“So?”

“I told that you would like it,” he says, a grin spreading across his face.

“Whatever,” I say, wishing he wasn’t making such a big deal out of it. It’s annoying. (Or cute, but I won’t admit that to him.) So, why does he have to look so cute when he smiles like that? I shake the thought out of my head, and we continue eating until all of the fries are gone.

*******

“This is really good, Baz,” Simon says, taking a bite of his second slice of cake. “Thanks again for baking it.”

“It was nothing,” I tell him.

“It wasn’t nothing,” he says, bumping his arm against mine.

Goosebumps spread across my arm from his touch, and I hope that he doesn’t notice that my faces warms slightly. I turn and give him a small smile.

“Hang on,” I tell him. “You’ve got a bit of icing on your face.”

“Where?”

“I’ll get it for you,” I say quietly even though my thoughts are yelling at me, telling me that this is a bad idea. I grab a napkin and wipe the bit of icing from just beside the corner of his mouth.

My hand lingers there for a moment too long, and my breath catches in my throat. Simon’s eyes are so beautiful, and he has so many more freckles than I thought. This close up, they stand out more against his skin. I realize that my hand is still on his face, and jerk it away.

I clear my throat and turn away. “You’re good now.”

“Thanks…”

I accidentally make eye contact with Penny, and she’s looking at me with raised brows and a slight smirk. It’s as if she knows something that I don’t. I look away from her, too, and start to stand up.

“I should get back to work.”

“Do you have to?” Simon asks. There’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that makes me want to stay, but I can’t. I might do something else stupid.

“Yes.”

“Wanna hang out later when you get off work?” He asks, looking hopeful.

My heart skips a beat at the question. It doesn’t care that he isn’t asking me on a date.

“I would but I have plans.”

Penny looks like she doesn’t believe me but doesn’t say anything. I actually do have plans tonight, though. Otherwise, I would jump at the chance to spend more time with him.

“Oh.” Simon sounds even more disappointed now, and I feel bad.

“I’m sorry. How about on Tuesday? I have that day off.”

“I can’t,” he says quietly.

I don’t know why I feel so disappointed or why it feels like we’re trying and failing to plan a date because that is definitely not what we’re doing.. He has a girlfriend, and I have to keep reminding myself. I have to remember that he doesn’t like me like that. We’re just friends. Or maybe just casual acquaintances. Except casual acquaintances don’t bake each other cakes for their birthday. I might be getting in too deep.

“We could just hang out the next time you come,” I offer weakly, wishing I could cancel my plans and just go with him. “I can take my break, and we can go celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay. Next Saturday?”

“Saturday,” I confirm, and my heart races at the smile that spreads across his face.

I return to the kitchen, and Fiona raises an eyebrow at me. “You seem happy, Basil.”

I don’t respond, trying to wipe the smile off of my face, but I fail. I turn away from her, not wanting to hear her tell me that liking Simon like this is a bad idea. I already know that. Nothing good can come from any of this. Spending time with him is like playing with fire. Eventually, I’m going to get burned.

For now, though, I’m going to enjoy it.

**Fiona**

I watch Baz from behind the cash register as he sits with Simon and his friend. He looks happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. He definitely smiles more now.

He spent all day yesterday trying to perfect that cake when he could have just gone out and bought one. I don’t know if he’s realized it himself, but he seems like he is falling hard for that boy. I’m worried what will happen to him if he gets his heart broken. I’d hate to see him as broken as he was the day that he showed up at the diner after his father kicked him out.

He was trying so hard, but he could barely keep it together. He wouldn’t tell me what happened, but it seemed bad. I took him upstairs to where you and I grew up together, Natasha. I couldn’t leave the diner yet, so I settled him into your room until he decided that he wanted to talk.

He was so worried that I would turn him away, but I would never do that to him.

I drove him back over to his house, and he worried that I was going to try to force his father to take him back in. I promised him that I wouldn’t do that. We went and packed his things, and he moved into the spare bedroom in my apartment. He still had that large stuffed bear that I gave him after you passed away, and I bought him another one soon after he moved in. I worried that he would say that he was too old for that, but tears sprang to his eyes when he saw it. He loved it.

Daphne let us in, and Malcolm either wasn’t there or he knew to stay away from me. I couldn’t believe that he could do that to his son, that he could just cast him out because of who he loved. He wasn’t even fifteen yet, and he had been shown by his father that who he loved was unacceptable. I vowed to show him otherwise.

It took Baz a long time to smile again. He had lost his other parent, and it hurt me to see him like that. I knew nothing about parenting, and all I had to offer him was a place to stay. A place where he was loved no matter what. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him at the time.

I think that you would be proud of the young man that he has grown up to be. He cares so much about people, just like you, but he hides it behind sneers and quick remarks. I look forward to seeing the man that he turns into, and I want you to know that I will never abandon him. I will be there in every way that you can’t and every way that his father refuses to be. He has a home with me.

 

** Coffee Shop Surprises **

**Baz**

The next Saturday rolls around slowly. I couldn’t sit still at home because I was anxious. There’s nothing different about today. It will be like any other day when Simon comes into the diner, but I changed my shirt three times before finally throwing on the black button-up that looks both nice and casual. I finally decided that I had to get out of the apartment before I changed my mind again and came into work early today.

Fiona was glad to see me because the place was really busy when I got in. I almost didn’t notice time passing by as I went from table to table, taking orders and delivering food. Two hours passed by, and now, the diner is mostly empty and quiet again. Simon probably won’t be here yet, so I take a moment to make sure that I still look alright.

It’s nice outside, so we’ll probably just walk around or something. I’m not sure really because I don’t want it to seem date-like, but I also want him to have a nice time. The time comes around when Simon usually shows up, but the door stays firmly shut. The only people in the diner are our usual Saturday customers, the older couple, sitting off to the side. I let Fiona take them because I worry that they’ll start asking questions if they see me. They always seem to be more knowledgeable than they should be, so I wouldn’t doubt it if they knew something about Simon.

I stand behind the register, trying not to make it obvious that I’m watching the door but failing at it. The bell doesn’t ring, and no one else comes in. Simon isn’t coming.

I sigh when it’s time to take my break and give one last longing look at the door. Simon was supposed to be here, and I hate this feeling like I’ve just been stood up. It wasn’t a date. We’re just friends. So, why do I feel so hurt?

I decide that I have to get out of here, with or without him, and tell Fiona that I’ll be back in a bit before heading out. I step out onto the sidewalk and feel the hot summer air beating down on back. I turn left and start walking. I don’t have any destination in mind as I walk. I just need to move, to work off this energy that I feel building in me. I try not to think about how disheartened I am as I walk, but it’s difficult.

I pass by a couple of stores fronts as I walk, but I barely look at them. I can’t focus on anything because thoughts of Simon keep invading. I don’t want to be mad that he didn’t show up, but I was really looking forward to today. I see a coffee shop up ahead and decide to stop inside. Maybe some coffee and a sweet pastry will cheer me up. I open the door, letting out a cool gust of air.

It’s late afternoon, but the place is packed. There are no empty tables, and it’s really noisy. I consider turning around and leaving. I don’t like crowded spaces like this, and it would be easier just to return to the diner. But then, the person behind the counter calls out to me, and I feel like it would be rude if I left. I can’t even see them through all of the people, though.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” the person calls.

I walk to the counter carefully, trying not to bump into anyone else as I step between the closely packed tables. There is no one standing in line at the counter right now, but the café is near capacity. I’ve never come here before, and it is not likely that I will ever return after this.

I drum my fingers on the counter as I look over the menu and the baked goods inside the display case that sits to the left of the counter. I pull at the apron that’s wrapped around my waist and realize that I forgot to remove it before I walked over here. I consider taking it off quickly, but then the guy behind the counter speaks again.

“Hi, what can I get for you to…day?” I look up as he drifts off slowly. I have a similar reaction to him as my mouth goes dry, and I freeze.

Simon is standing in front of me with his hair sticking out more wildly than usual. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and he’s wearing a grey apron with the name of the coffee shop on it. I look up into his blue eyes, surprised to see him here.

“What are you doing here?” I ask stupidly, running a hand through my hair, just to have something to do.

“I, uh, work here.”

“Right,” I say, mentally kicking myself. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry that I didn’t show up at the diner today.

“You don’t owe me an apology. You don’t always have to come, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah, I know that. I just…” he drifts off. “We had plans. But then they needed me to come into work. I don’t have your number, so I couldn’t call. I was going to walk over there when I got off and try to make it up to you. I’m sorry,” he says again. His rambling is adorable.

“Make it up to me?” I ask, dwelling on only one part of what he said.

“Um, I just meant that we could hang out later tonight or another day or something.” God, he’s too cute when he’s nervous. “Anyway, what can I get you?” He asks, changing the subject.

“Coffee.”

“Anything specific?” He asks with a curve of his lips.

“Uh,” I’m speechless for the first time in his life. I always have some witty comeback but seeing Simon here has caught me completely off guard, and he’s so cute in his apron that I can hardly string words together.

“I’ll surprise you,” Simon says, smiling fully at me.

He turns around to start making it, and I glance around the coffee shop at all the different people who fill up the place. There’s an elderly man sitting alone in the corner near the door, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. There’s a young couple with a small child sitting at another table. They look tired but happy. Most of other tables are filled with younger people who are looking at computers or chatting animatedly.

“Here you go.”

I turn back around, and Simon sets a coffee cup in front of me. I hand him a couple of dollar bills, and when he hands me my change, he also hands me a small paper bag.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Something you’ll like,” he says with a playful smile.

“I didn’t pay for it, though.”

“It’s on me. Sorry that I stood you up today.”

“Don’t worry about,” I tell him. I almost say something stupid, like that it was nice that I got to see him here in the coffee shop, but I stop myself.

I want to stay and talk with him some more, but when I glance behind me, there are people waiting in line. I step off to the side, letting the next customer step up to the counter, but not wanting to leave just yet. Not until I say goodbye.

“I’ll talk to you later?” It comes out as more of a question than I mean it to be.

“Yeah, see you later.” Simon stops a moment to smile at me in the middle of taking someone else’s order, and the woman shoots me a glare.

I want to stay a little longer, if only to piss off the woman a little more, but Simon turns back to her, so I back away, bag and coffee in hand.

As I walk along the sidewalk back to the diner, I take a sip of the coffee Simon made for me. It’s really sweet and nothing like I’ve ever had before. I take another sip and decide that I really like it. This might mean that I will have to go back sometime after all and get another one. Hopefully, it will be on a day that Simon is working. It isn’t until I reach the door to the diner and have to adjust my hold on the cup to open the door that I notice Simon’s scrawl across the side.

_Have a good day, Baz :)_

His number is written underneath that. And that’s how Fiona finds me smiling stupidly at a coffee cup when I step behind the counter to get back to work.

“What’s that?” She asks.

“Coffee.”

“You do realize that you can get coffee for free here, right?”

“Yeah, but—.” I cut myself off before I say that it’s better because Simon made it for me.

“But what?” She asks, and I can tell that she suspects something is going on.

“Er, nothing. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

She shakes her head fondly at me as I step around her to the back, where I finish my break, eating the cookie that Simon surprised me with. I find it difficult to keep the grin off of my face as I sit there. I might be falling harder for him than I thought.

**Simon**

I’m a fool. Why did I have to add that smiley face? Why couldn’t I just write his name on the cup and leave it? And I even added my number in the hopes that he would text if I wasn’t able to see him again today. I don’t even have time to wallow in my humiliation because customers just keep pouring in. I can’t remember the place ever being this busy while I was working.

When my shift finally ends, I wonder whether I should still go down to the diner like I planned to. I don’t usually work on Saturdays, but we were understaffed today, so I had to come in and help during the rush. Baz was the last person that I expected to see here. I feel really bad for not showing up when we made plans. I was really looking forward to hanging out with him today.

I decide to go visit him for a minute so that I can at least apologize again.

He’s with another customer when I walk in, so I take a seat in a booth while I wait for him. I might as well get food while I’m here, too, since I haven’t eaten much all day.

What happens next is completely unexpected, and if I could go back and decide to just go home after I get off of work, there’s a big chance that I would do just that. It would be better than seeing how it affects my friendship with Baz.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon are in for a surprise at the diner when Agatha shows up for the first time all summer. The question is, will they be able to work through this without losing this friendship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long it has taken me to get around to update this. I lost motivation for this fic for a while, but I finally managed to get part two up. I hope you all like it! <3 (Also, part three isn't going to be as long as the first two parts, so it (hopefully) shouldn't take as long to update.)

** Separate Ways **

**Baz**

I see it. I see the moment everything changes as it plays out in Simon’s eyes.

He has just come into the diner and taken a seat in his usual booth. I smile to myself at the thought that he comes in here so often that I now associate that booth with him.

I walk over to his table to take his order, and his face lights up with a smile, making my heart race. I find my own smile widening to match his.

I didn’t expect to him to come here today after I saw him at the coffee shop, but I’m glad that he did. I can feel myself falling harder for him with every passing day, and when he smiles at me like that, it’s hard not to imagine for just a moment that he sees me the same way.

As I stand there and we talk, I decide that I want to reschedule the plans that we had for today. I want to hang out with him outside of the diner. I want to see what he’s like outside of this place and when he isn’t trying to teach me how to roller skate.

I know that he has a girlfriend and that we would just be hanging out as friends, but that’s what I want. I want to be his friend. I want to be someone that he likes hanging out, even when they aren’t serving him food. I want to get to know him better.

I say something to make him laugh, and I have to bite down on my lip to keep myself from saying out loud how cute I think he looks. Recently, I’ve found it more and more difficult to keep my thoughts about him to myself. I’m falling hard for him, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

The bell over the door dings, but I am too busy focusing on the dimple in Simon’s right cheek to look at the new customer. He does look, though, and I watch as everything changes in him and then with us. It’s like watching a car crash and being helpless to stop it. I never saw this coming, and I never could have guessed just how it would affect us.

His eyes widen, and the smile falls from his face. It’s strange to see him like this. The last time he looked like that was the last time he talked about his girlfriend standing him up. He frowns deeply at something, and that’s when I decide to look at the door to see what could have possibly had an effect on him.

All I find there is a girl with long, blond hair, wearing a shirt and skirt that are both pink. She’s tall and pretty, and I don’t think that I’ve ever seen her here before. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about her, or at least nothing that would have made Simon react the way that he did. I look back to him, and he is looking up at me now. He’s looking at me in a way that seems both apologetic and guilty without him actually saying anything.

“Oh,” I say on an exhale, understanding.

I turn to try and get away as fast possible, but the girl has already located Simon and is only a few steps away. Ignoring me, she slides into the booth across from Simon, into the place where I usually sit, ignoring me completely.

I dislike her immediately. It’s more than the jealously that I feel right in that moment. It’s the way that she stood Simon up so many times without so much as an explanation. It’s the way that she just shows up, surprising both of us, and acts like nothing unusual is going on.

“I’ll just.” It comes out as almost a whisper, making me sound like I’m losing my voice. I clear my throat and try again. “I’ll be back with your order in a few minutes,” I tell Simon without making eye contact. I ignore the fact that he hadn’t actually gotten the chance to order anything yet. I’ll just bring him his usual. Or have someone else bring it anyway.

I turn and head to the kitchen without saying anything to the girl. I know that I probably seem rude, but I can’t worry about that right now. I just need to get away.

**Simon**

“What are you doing here?” I ask Agatha after Baz has disappeared.

He took off as soon as she sat down, and I can’t say that I blame him. There’s a part of me that wishes that I could do the same and another part that feels extremely guilty for even considering it. It’s just that I don’t want to face Agatha. We haven’t spoken since my birthday when she said that she had other plans and couldn’t make it to my house to celebrate with me. With that and the fact that she hasn’t seemed to want to talk to me or see me all summer, I wish that I could leave, too. I don’t want to talk to her right now, but I know that we need to.

She frowns in the direction that Baz went. “He didn’t take my order. The service here sucks.” She turns her attention to me. “I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t come here before now.”

She says it like it’s a joke, like the reason that she hasn’t been here isn’t because she stood me up. She wrinkles her nose in a way that I once found cute. I don’t find it cute anymore, and I don’t laugh at her joke.

It hurts, realizing that I don’t feel the same way about her that I used to. So much has changed, and now, I feel like I barely know her. I don’t know what happened between us, but I decide that I have to stay and try to figure this out.

What is she even doing here? All summer, all I have wanted is for her to show up, and now that she is finally here, I just wish that she would leave. I didn’t even invite her this time. I haven’t invited her here in a couple of weeks because I knew that she wouldn’t show up.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her again when she seems like she isn’t going to answer.

“I thought that you wanted me to come here.”

“I’ve asked you to come several times, and you stood me up each time. So, why today?”

“Look, Simon. I’m sorry for all of that. I really am. I just—. I don’t know. It felt weird.” She pauses for a moment, then shakes her head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Then, why are you here?” It comes out harsher than I mean it to.

“I don’t want to fight.”

I take a deep breath, trying not to get worked up. “What do you want then?” I ask softly.

“I don’t know,” she says, staring down at the table. “But I do know that I don’t want this.”

She slowly looks back up into my eyes. She looks sad and almost like it pains her to say this.

“Don’t want what?” I ask slowly. A part of me – a rather large part – already knows where this going, but I need to hear her say it.

“This,” she says, gesturing between us with her hand. “Us. I don’t want to be in a relationship.”

“You don’t want to date me?” I ask. We’ve been together for years. Why is she just now deciding this? “Is there someone else?” It hurts to ask, but I need to know, even if I’m starting to think that I don’t want to date her either. We would probably be better off as friends.

“No, Simon,” she says gently. “I don’t want to be in a relationship with anyone.”

“Just for now, or—? Is there any chance…?” I drift off, unable to ask her if there’s any chance that we could get back together when I know that there isn’t.

“I don’t think so,” she says, shaking her head. “This is it for us.”

“But why?” I don’t get it. I need an explanation. I need to know what happened to us this summer. What happened to lead her to stand me up.

“Here’s your food.” I almost jump at the sound of the new voice. Fiona is standing beside us now and sets down a plate of fries and a vanilla milkshake in front of me. Where did Baz go? I wonder. “Can I get you anything?” She asks, turning to Agatha.

“No, thank you,” she says politely. “I was just about to leave.”

“Alright, let me know if either of you need anything else.”

I nod but keep my eyes on Agatha. This is really it. She doesn’t want to be with me. I feel like I should be more upset than I am, but I just can’t seem to find it in me to be hurt about this. It’s been coming for a long time now, probably even before school let out for the summer. Maybe longer. I’m not sure.

Don’t get me wrong, it hurts ending this relationship that has lasted for almost three years, but it was never much of a relationship. It was more like we were just friends who hung out a bit more than regular friends. I’m pretty sure that I hung out with Penny more than I did with her.

“I’m sorry, Simon,” she says.

“Don’t be,” I tell her. “You’re right. We weren’t working well together.”

She gives me a small, sad smile. “Thank you for understanding.”

I nod and try to smile back, but it doesn’t work. It will take some time, but I will be okay.

“Goodbye, Simon.” She stands up. I consider asking her if she wants to stay and eat, but I don’t. It would be too weird now.

“Bye, Agatha.” And I watch her walk away.

 

** Admitting the Truth **

**Baz**

I walk away from Simon and his girlfriend as quickly as possible without it seeming like I’m actually running away. I don’t stop until I’ve reached the back of the kitchen, where I’m out of sight from the main room of the diner. I lean against the wall and trying to slow down my racing heart and the thoughts that racing around in my head. Fiona must notice that something is wrong because she walks over to me almost immediately.

“Are you alright, Baz?” She asks.

“Yeah,” I say, but we both know it’s a lie. “He wants a milkshake and fries,” I say, not specifying who ‘he’ is.  She’ll know, though. “Would you take it out to him?” I ask, pleadingly.

“What’s going on?” She asks, sounding concerned as she looks me over.

“Nothing. Will you take him his food? Please?” I add quietly.

She studies me for a moment before turning and walking away. I let out a breath, glad that I’ve managed to avoid Simon and his girlfriend for at least a little bit longer.

I know that hiding out in the kitchen is ridiculous, but I can’t face Simon, not when he’s with his girlfriend. She finally showed up. I should have known this day would come, but I guess there was a part of me that hoped that we wouldn’t show. I’m angry at myself for letting him affect me this way. I knew he had a girlfriend. I knew that nothing would ever happen between us. So, why does this hurt so much?

“Alright,” Fiona says when she returns a few minutes later. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” I repeat, but she isn’t having it.

“Let’s go upstairs and talk,” she suggests.

I look at her surprised. She never goes upstairs. It makes her sad. It reminds her of everything that she has lost.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “We can talk down here.”

“No, we can’t. Come on.”

She turns away before I can protest again. I follow her out of the kitchen and back into the dining area. I can’t stop myself from looking over at Simon. He’s leaning towards her, listening to her talk, and I can’t read the expression on his face. I don’t know him well enough to know what he’s thinking. I don’t know him that well at all, and the truth of that hurts more than anything because I want to. I want to know him better than anyone, but I can’t.

I look away and continue to follow Fiona, feeling like a little kid about to be reprimanded. We walk up the stairs, and she pauses, not quite long enough that anyone else would have noticed. It’s only for a moment, and I want to tell her again that we don’t have to go up here. Before I can say this, though, she has already unlocked and begun opening the door. I don’t have any choice but to follow her in.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she says gently after we’ve settled in on the well-worn couch. I rest my elbows on my knees and let my head fall into my hands.

“His girlfriend is here,” I mumble finally.

“Who’s girlfriend?”

“Simon’s. The boy that I’ve been hanging out with.”

“Oh. You mean the boy that you’ve been flirting with.”

I turn my head to look at her. There’s a teasing smile on her face.

“I have not been flirting,” I say indignantly. I don’t know why I’m trying to argue with her when we both know that it’s true. I haven’t stopped flirting with him since the first time that I set my eyes on him, and that was almost two months ago.

“You can’t lie to me, Baz. I’ve seen it all.” She pauses for a moment before adding in a softer voice, “I’ve also seen the jar on your desk.”

My eyes widen at her. I want to deny it. I want to tell her that it isn’t what she thinks it is, but it is.

“He doesn’t know about the jar.”

“I didn’t think he did, but what did you plan on doing with it?”

“I was going to find a way to give it back to him. I’ve been saving every tip that he has given me because it didn’t feel right taking the money from him.”

“Because you like him.” It isn’t a question, and I don’t try to deny it this time. I just let my head fall back into my hands.

“Is it really that obvious?” I ask finally.

“Hun… you’ve been spending so much time with him, and it is the highlight of your week when he comes in. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. I want you to be happy, but you also have to be careful.”

“I didn’t want to like him,” I murmur, and it’s true. I wish that I could just like him as a friend. If I did, I wouldn’t be feeling this awful right now.

“I know, but you can’t change that.”

“I wish that I could,” I tell her.

“Why?”

“He has a girlfriend.”

“Which you knew from the beginning.”

“It’s different when she’s actually here, though,” I admit. At least then, I could pretend just for a bit.

“But nothing has actually changed.”

“I know.”

“Then, you can’t keep avoiding him. It isn’t fair to him.”

I turn to look at her, and she’s looking at me in a way that she hasn’t in years. Like she’s worried about me, worried about how I’ll take this. It’s a watered-down version of the way that she looked at me after my father kicked me out.

“I know,” I say again, quieter this time.

“You have to go out there and show him that nothing has changed because to him, nothing has. He doesn’t know how you felt, and if you suddenly started avoiding him, he’ll worry that he’s done something wrong.”

I sigh. She’s right, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be happy about it. She squeezes my shoulder once, reassuringly, before we stand up and head back down stairs. She smiles at me one more time before heading into the kitchen, and I force myself to walk over to where Simon is.

He’s still sitting where I left him, but the girl is gone. I glance around to see if maybe she’s still somewhere in the diner, but she seems to really be gone. I don’t know what it means that he’s still here and that he’s alone now.

“Can I get you anything else?” I ask. I stare at a spot on the wall just over his shoulder, unable to make eye contact with him.

“I’m good.” He starts to fish money out of his pocket, but I refuse to let him pay.

“On the house,” I tell him. “Since you didn’t actually order it.”

I start to turn away, but he stops me with a hand on my arm, close to my wrist.

“Wait. Let’s talk.”

His voice is soft, gentle. The sound of it hurts because I’m worried about what will come next.

“About?” I ask him.

His gaze flits to the door which his girlfriend probably just left through. He doesn’t actually say anything, and I realize that I can’t do this. I don’t have any right to be angry at him, and I’m not. I just hate that I can’t sit there and pretend like I’m fine. I hate that I’m not fine, but actually having to face the reality of his girlfriend has made me realize that I like him more than I thought. It made me realize that a part of me was choosing to ignore the fact that he has a girlfriend.

“I’ve got work to do,” I tell him, shaking my head.

“Wait,” he says again, but I pull my arm out of his grasp and step out of his reach.

“What?” I sneer. His eyes widen slightly, and he drops his hand. Crap. I didn’t mean to snap at him. I take a breath and try again. “What do you want to talk about?” I ask, softer this time.

He chews on his lip for a moment, and I’m about to turn away again when he finally speaks up. “We broke up,” he says quietly. “She broke up with me.”

He says it almost matter-of-factly, as if he were telling me that it’s raining outside. He doesn’t sound sad, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably just in shock or something. He’ll be sad when it finally sinks in.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I say, not sure how else to respond.

“It’s okay. Or it will be at least.” He attempts a smile, but it falls flat.

Part of me wants to celebrate his singleness even though that’s wrong. I know it is, and I feel guilty for feeling that way. He and his girlfriend just broke up. That’s not something to celebrate. It doesn’t change anything between us. He’s still straight, and I’m still hopelessly falling for him.

We both are quiet, not sure what to say. What am I supposed to say? Should I offer to take him somewhere, like I was supposed to today and try to cheer him up? Or would he rather be alone? I’ve never been dumped before. I’ve never even been in a relationship before, so I don’t know what would help him right now.

I’m saved from trying to figure that out when he says, “I’m going to go. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay?” I shake my head. “Then, at least let me give you a tip.”

“You don’t have to tip me, Simon.”

“I’d feel bad if I didn’t give you something for this food.”

I sigh, closing my eyes briefly. Why does he have to be so kind? It makes not liking him difficult. Nearly impossible in fact.

“Fine,” I give in when I realize that he isn’t going to give up.

The corner of his mouth lifts just barely, and he pulls some money out and pushes it into my hand. He says goodbye and leaves before I realize how much money he has handed me. He’s given me enough for both his food and a tip. I sigh, feeling bad for taking his money. I should have stood firm on him not paying. I’ll just have to put the money in the jar with the rest of the money and figure out a way to give it back to him.

**Simon**

After I leave the diner, I decide to walk home instead of calling Ebb to come pick me up. I need some time to think and some space from other people.

I head in the direction of my house, taking the long way there, down back streets and around the park. The whole time that I’m walking, I’m thinking about Baz, and it feels wrong. I should be thinking about Agatha. I should be upset that she dumped me. I shouldn’t be wishing that I was back at the diner, laughing and talking to Baz. I shouldn’t feel for him the way that I should have felt about Agatha.

I haven’t wanted to admit it because I was still dating her, and it felt horrible to even give it a thought. But now that we aren’t together, it’s hard to ignore the voice in my head that is telling me that there is something more about the way that I feel about Baz.

I still don’t want to think about it. It doesn’t matter how I might feel about him because there is no way that he likes me. He only started talking to me in the first place because he felt bad for me. He never would have given me a second thought if Agatha had shown up that first day, and I wouldn’t be wishing that I could spend more time with him, that we could have hung out today. Maybe if we had, Agatha and I wouldn’t have seen each other, and she wouldn’t have broken up with me.

I don’t want that either, though. It was time for us to part. This will be good for the both of us. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be thinking right now. Part of me is upset, and part of me is relieved.

I want to think about Baz, but I feel guilty for not feeling worse about the break up.

It’s all so confusing. I want to talk to someone about it, but I don’t know who. I could text Penny, but I wouldn’t know how to explain any of this to her without telling her that I might have feelings for Baz. I can’t admit that to her yet. I have to figure out how I really feel first.

When I get home, Ebb isn’t there, so I head to my room and kick off my shoes before sliding into bed. I just want to sleep and stop thinking about this for a while. I can figure out what to do later. For now, I’m going to push all thoughts of Agatha and Baz and my feelings for them out of head.

**Baz**

“Ready to go?” Fiona asks once we’re done for the night.

She hasn’t said anything else about Simon, and I’m grateful for that. I need some time to think this through before he returns. I have to be able to go back to how we were before his girlfriend showed up because nothing has changed between us.

“Yeah, just let me grab my book really quick,” I tell her.

I walk around behind the counter to get it, and that’s when I see the coffee cup from earlier today. It seems like that was such a long time ago even though it was just a few hours ago. I pick up the cup and stare at Simon’s handwriting for a moment. It’s messy and almost impossible to read. I’ve already programmed his number into my phone, but it seems like throwing this cup away means more than just getting rid of a disposable cup. It feels like I’m deciding not to contact him. It’s ridiculous, but it still hurts as I drop the cup into the trashcan before joining Fiona at the door.

 

** Avoiding Each Other **

**Baz**

It’s been a week, and Simon hasn’t returned to the diner. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I wouldn’t want to return to the place where I had had my heart broken either. Plus, I never texted him, so he probably thinks that I don’t want to talk to him.

I know that it’s more likely that he just wanted a break from coming here than it is that he is never going to return, but my brain keeps telling me that he was only coming to the diner because he was waiting for his girlfriend. Of course, when she did come, she broke up with him. So, there isn’t a reason for him to keep coming.

I try to pretend like I’m not watching the door, waiting for him to return, but I am. I can’t focus on my book, and I barely pay attention to any of the other customers. It gets so bad that Fiona nearly kicks me out, sending me home for the day.

I promise her that I’m fine, and I try to look less distracted. To prove it to her, I head over to our usual Saturday customers.

“Hey, Baz,” one of them greets me.

“Hello, Janice. What can I get for you today?”

“I’ll take my usual,” she says. Then, she looks at her companion and says, “What about you, Ellis? What will you have this time?”

“I think I need another minute to decide,” she says, flipping the menu over to look at the other side.

It’s just a show. She always orders the same thing each week, but she likes to pretend that she has to think about it. It’s part of the fun of coming here every week, I guess. It’s really sweet that they do this, and I hope that I’ll have something like this my partner someday when I’m older.

“Alright,” I tell her. “I can come back.”

“No, wait,” Ellis says. “Where’s that friend of yours? Doesn’t he usually come here on Saturdays?”

“I’m not sure,” I say even though I know that he does.

“Wasn’t he with a girl last time? Who was that?”

“His girlfriend. Or I guess she’s his ex-girlfriend now,” I say, correcting myself.

“So, he’s single now,” Ellis says with a grin that seems like it’s filled with mischief.

“And straight,” I remind her, tapping my pen on my notepad.

“How do you know?” Janice asks. “Did he tell you?”

“No, but—.”

“You shouldn’t assume that someone’s straight just because they’re dating someone of the opposite gender.”

“Yeah, if I had done that, I wouldn’t be with Janice here,” Ellis says smiling across the table at her partner.

“Oh, shut it,” Janice replies affectionately.

Ellis is right, but I won’t let myself to think about the possibility that Simon isn’t straight because it would mean getting my hopes up. Allowing myself to believe that there was even the slightest chance that he could be into me would just mean getting more hurt when he says that he isn’t. There’s no way that he likes me. I’ve never been that lucky in my life.

“I still don’t think he likes me,” I say, wishing that I could somehow duck out of this conversation.

“Why not?”

“Leave the poor boy alone, Ellis,” Janice says, coming to my rescue.

“I’m just wondering,” she replies innocently. “I think that they would make a lovely couple.”

“And if it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

“Not if they keep avoiding each other.”

“We aren’t avoiding each other,” I pipe in. Maybe if I say it enough times, it will be true.

“Then where is he?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t come in here every week.” I know it’s a lie, and so do they. He comes in at least once a week, just like they do.

“I’m sure he’ll show.”

“Just order, Ellis,” Janice says, not unkindly.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stay out of your love life.”

She picks up the menu again and starts looking over it again. The bell above the door rings, and I can’t help but turn around to see who it is. My heart falls when I see that it isn’t him.

When I turn back to the table, Janice is watching me in a way that isn’t dissimilar to the way that I was watching Simon that first day that he came here. I try to ignore the look and take Ellis’ order and leaving before either of them can say anything else about Simon. I start to wonder if I should have just let Fiona send me home.

Even though Ellis repeats that Simon will show when I bring them their food, he doesn’t. He doesn’t return the next week either, and I start to feel like he really isn’t coming back. I try to tell myself that none of this is my fault, but it’s hard to believe that when it feels like he’s avoiding me.

By the next Saturday, Fiona has decided that she has had enough, and when we both get home that evening, she makes me sit with her at the small kitchen table.

“What’s going on with you?” She asks. She’s never been one for small talk, so I’m not surprised that she just jumped right in.

“Nothing,” I say, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over chest.

“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head at me. “I’m not having it anymore. Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened.” She gives me a look, so I continue. “He hasn’t come back to the diner,” I say quietly, refusing to make eye contact with her.

“Who?”

“Simon.”

“Oh. I had noticed that he hasn’t been in in a while, but I wasn’t sure why.”

“I don’t know why either,” I say, hoping that the pain that I feel isn’t evident in my voice. “He just hasn’t returned.”

“And this is why you’ve been dragging your feet around the diner, wearing that perpetual frown.” It’s more of a statement than a question, and she’s right. I don’t want to admit it, though.

“I have not been doing that,” I say, even though I definitely have.

“Have you tried reaching out to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“If he doesn’t want to see me, then I’m not going to bother him.” I am acutely aware that I sound like a stubborn child, who refuses to forgive someone accidentally hurting them.

“Baz, you’re smarter than this,” she says with a sigh.

“Than what?”

“If you really care about him this much - and it seems like you do - you should just go talk to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to think about how it’s very likely that he hasn’t returned because he doesn’t want to be around me, that he doesn’t want to even be friends.

“I don’t think that that’s how it will turn out.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I can’t. But Baz, I do know that you won’t be happy until you find out.”

She’s right. I know she is, but if it turns out that he doesn’t want to talk to me, it will get worse before it can ever get better.

“How do I talk to him if he doesn’t come here anymore?”

“Didn’t you drive him home a couple of times? You know where he lives. Go visit him.”

I think this over. She’s right that I could go visit him instead of waiting for him, but I’m afraid that he will turn me away. Maybe I would be happier with not knowing than I would be if I was rejected by him. A part of me knows that that isn’t true, but I’m still weary about it.

“Okay,” I say finally. “I’ll think about it.”

**Simon**

“Are you not going out today?” Ebb asks me when she walks into the living room and finds me sprawled out on the couch on Saturday afternoon.

It’s been a week since Agatha broke up with me, and I’ve barely left the house except for when I had to go to work. I haven’t felt like talking to anyone. Not even Penny.

“Nope,” I say, continuing to stare up at the ceiling.

“Don’t you usually go hang out with Baz at the diner on Saturdays?”

I shrug. “Sometimes.”

“Are you two in a fight?”

“No.”

“Then, what’s wrong?”

“Agatha broke up with me.” It’s a lie, but I can’t tell her the truth.

“I know that, but that shouldn’t stop you from hanging out with your other friends.”

“Penny might come over later,” I say even though I know that she isn’t. She’s hanging out with her boyfriend today.

Ebb sighs like she doesn’t believe me, but she seems to drop the subject.

“I’ll see you tonight then,” she says after a moment.

“Goodbye, Ebb,” I say, feeling bad for lying to her.

I just want to be alone. I don’t want to see Baz. I don’t even want to think about him because it causes this weird feeling that has become harder and harder to ignore.

I want to talk to him, but it makes me feel like I’m going to be sick when I think about it. I was never this anxious around him before, but now, I can’t stop worrying about how he’ll think of me. Will he laugh at the jokes I make? Will he be happy to see me again? Or will I annoy him? Have I already annoyed him before and just haven’t realized it?

I get tired of thinking about it, and I don’t want to face him in case he doesn’t want to see me, so I most days, I just stay in bed until I have to go to work. Even as I try to be friendly to the customers there, I feel like I’m just pretending to be happy.

All I can think about is the boy who is just a few shops down and wishing that he would stop in for a cup of coffee so that we would have an excuse to talk. That doesn’t happen, though, no matter how much I hope that it does.

The next Saturday, I don’t feel like leaving the house either. I stay in my room until Ebb is gone so that I can avoid having to talk to her about it again. Time drags by as I sit on the couch and pretend like I’m watching the tv. Time seems to be moving a lot slower ever since I stopped going to the diner. I know that I’m just imagining this, but it’s hard to find a reason to get up and go out when the only place that I want to be is sitting across the booth from Baz, talking and laughing with him. I can’t tell anyone this, though, so both Ebb and Penny start to worry about me while I insist that I’m fine.

When Ebb comes home later that night, she has apparently decided that it’s time for us to talk now and that I don’t have a say in the matter.

“Scoot over, Simon. Let’s talk.”

I sit up and move over to one side of the couch so that she can sit next to me.

“What’s going on, Simon?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering if she’ll just drop it if I pretend like I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“You hate staying inside all day, and even when you weren’t meeting up with Agatha, you still went out, so what happened?” She asks, and I just look away and shrug. Seeing her worried expression makes me feel even worse. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

“I think that…” I want to tell her, but it’s difficult to say this out loud, to admit that I’m not as straight as I thought I was. “I think that I might like Baz. As more than a friend,” I add after a beat.

“I told you about the girl that I liked in high school, right?” She asks, which seems really random, but I roll with it.

I nod. She’s talked about the girl a couple of times. The first time was when I was younger and first started wondering about having a crush on people. She wanted to tell me that it was okay to like anyone that I wanted or not to like anyone at all. She wanted me to know that it didn’t matter to her, as long as I was happy. She’s told me about the girl a few times since then, too.

“She moved away after we graduated,” she says now, “and I never got the chance to tell her how I feel. I never found out whether there was a chance that she could like me back, and there is a part of me that will always wonder. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy, but I still sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had just talked to her.”

“So, you’re saying that I should talk to Baz?” I ask.

“If that’s what you want to do. If you want to know how he feels, then you have to talk to him about it.”

“What if he doesn’t like me, though?” I ask. That’s my biggest fear right now.

“Then, at least you will know, and you won’t have to wonder.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe it would be better to know.

But maybe it wouldn’t be. If I don’t say anything to him again, it won’t matter. This crush will go away eventually, and I won’t have to get my heart broken.

“I’ll think it about it,” I tell her, and she smiles before pulling me into a tight hug.

“I love you, Simon.

“I love, too, Ebb.”

 

** Missing You **

**Baz**

It’s been over two weeks since the last time that I saw Simon. That was the last time that I saw his clear, blue eyes look up at me as his lips spread slowly into a smile. That was the last time I genuinely smiled at someone who walked into the diner. It was the last time that I genuinely smiled at all.

It’s been two weeks since I realized that the only reason that he came to diner was to wait for Agatha, no matter how much I want to believe that he came to see me. I thought that I was at least part of the reason that he came here twice a week. I thought that we were friends and that we were going to continue to be friends. I didn’t realize that as soon as he and his girlfriend broke up, he would cease being my friend. I also didn’t know how much it would hurt when that realization struck me.

It’s been one week since I decided to stop waiting for him to come around because it isn’t likely that I’ll ever see him again. Some things are easier said than done. Every time that the lunch rush is over, I look for him. Every time that Ellis and Janice come in for their weekly lunch, I wait for Simon to show up, too. Every time that the bell rings over the door, I look up, thinking that I’ll see those messy bronze curls and those freckled cheeks, flushed red from the summer heat.

It’s been three days since I took off down the sidewalk, lying to myself even about where I was going. I headed down the street to the little coffee shop that sits a few buildings down, the coffee shop that I’ve only ever been to once and will probably never return to. I went there with the intention of seeing if Simon was working, to see if he would smile at me and strike up a conversation or if he would treat me like any other customer. It’s been three days since I made it as far as the door, resting my hand on the handle for a brief moment, before I changed my mind and walked back to the diner. I didn’t want to see the look on his face when he saw me because he definitely wouldn’t be happy to see me. There was no way that he would be happy to see me when he was obviously working so hard to avoid me

It’s been one day since the last time I felt an unexplainable anger when someone else sat in his usual booth. It was a couple, two kids who walked in holding hands, smiling lovingly at each other. They sat across from each other, still holding hands over the table.

My grip tightened on the object in my hand as I felt a rush of anger through me, but it loosened again as I realized that I wasn’t angry at the couple. I was angry at the fact that I would never get to do that with the golden boy who would sit there for hours drawing and blocking out the rest of the world. I can’t even look at that booth without feeling a pang in my chest, without feeling the loss of the boy who doesn’t come and sit there anymore.

It’s been ten minutes since the last time that Fiona told me that I either needed to find a way to stay focused while I was at work or she was going to send me home. She said that she couldn’t have me dropping and breaking all of the dishes; otherwise, she wouldn’t have anything to serve the food on.

Of course, she said all of this with a sad, pitying look in her eyes. She knows why I’m distracted. She knows why I sit in the back during all of my breaks now. She’s tried different things to pull me out of this slump, but none of it has worked. All I need is some time to get over the boy who stole my heart, walked out the door with it, and never returned.

It’s been five seconds the last time someone opened the diner door and I looked up, hoping that it was him. It’s become more of a habit than a conscious decision, and it only hurts more and more each time that I see that it isn’t him.

It’s been zero seconds since the last time I thought about him and wished that I could see his bright, sunny smile directed at me again.

I’ve tried not to think about him, but it seems that no matter how hard I try, nothing works. It’s Tuesday, and even though he’s never come in on a Tuesday before, I keep thinking – wishing, hoping – that today will be the day that he returns.

I’ve just finished clearing all of the tables after today’s lunch rush and have returned to stand behind the counter when the bell above the door rings once again. I try not to look up, but it’s a losing battle. I freeze when I see who walks in. It isn’t Simon. It’s his friend, Penelope.

I look hopefully behind her, but Simon doesn’t seem to be with her. She notices me looking, and I hope that the frown isn’t evident on my face as she walks across the diner to stand in front of the counter.

“Hey, can we talk?” She asks, drumming her fingers on her arm, the light catching on the large, purple ring that she wears.

“What about?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

“Simon.”

My breath catches in my throat at the sound of his name, and my heart picks up speed.

“I’m working,” I say, looking away to search for any customers that might need my help. The diner is mostly empty at the moment, though.

“Then, I’ll order something.” She says as steps up onto a stool.

I considering refusing her for a moment, but that would definitely get me thrown out of the diner by Fiona. I really don’t want to go home, where all I’ll have is time to sit and think about Simon. Also, I’m curious about what Penny has to say. I sigh and pull out my notepad and pen.

“What can I get for you?” I ask, trying to give a little smile, but if falls flat, causing her to frown.

“Hmm, I think that I need some time to look over the menu,” she says, picking one up and looking it over.

I should have known that she wasn’t going to make this easy for me. She’s quiet for a while as she looks over the menu, and I start to hope that she isn’t going to bother me about him. I want to hear about him, but if she’s here without him, that can’t mean that whatever she has to say will be something that I will want to hear.

“So,” she says, drawing out the word as she looks up at me. “What’s going on with you and Simon?”

“Nothing.” It’s the truth.

“It’s not nothing,” she says, glaring at me.

“If you know that, then why are you asking me?”

“All I know is that Simon is upset, and there is no way that it is because of Agatha.”

“Why not? He broke up with her. That can cause someone to be upset, you know.” The tone of my voice only causes her to glare more, and she doesn’t back down.

“He told me that it wasn’t because of her, but he won’t tell me anything else.”

Her glare lessens slightly as she frowns. It looks like she might actually be worried about Simon, which has me wondering about him. Is he as bad off as I am? My heart does a little flip at the thought of him missing me as much as I miss him. I shove that thought down. If he missed me, he wouldn’t be avoiding me.

“I also know that he hasn’t returned to the diner in a while,” Penny continues, “so I can only assume that it’s because of you.”

“Well, you’ve assumed wrong because I haven’t done anything.”

“I’ve seen the way that you look at him,” she says, and I freeze.

“It’s not any of your business,” I grind out.

“Simon is my best friend, so it _is_ my business.”

“Then, why don’t you go ask him?” I don’t mean to snap at her, but I don’t want to talk about my very unrequited feelings for her friend with her.

“He won’t talk to me about it. So, I’m here to ask you if you did something to hurt him.”

“Like what?” I ask incredulously. What could I have possibly done to hurt him? I did everything I could to treat him kindly, to make him like me even. Apparently, none of that worked.

“I don’t know,” she says slowly, thinking about it. “Like, lead him on.”

“Lead him on? What are you talking about? His girlfriend broke up with him, and then he left. I haven’t even seen him since that day. It probably has more to do with the fact that he no longer has a reason to come here than it does with something that I may or may not have done.”

“I think that he likes you.”

I swear my heart stops for a moment. I want to believe. I want to believe her so badly, but the word ‘think’ echoes in my head, telling me that she doesn’t know for sure. I want to be mad at her for getting my hopes up, but I got my own hopes up long before I even met her.

“Then, you thought wrong,” I say, a little too harshly. “He has never shown any interest of that kind in me.”

“Do you honestly think that he came here all of those times for her? That he really got stood up that many times by her and didn’t break up with her himself?”

“What are you saying?” I ask, even though I know.

It’s something that I’ve thought about. Either he was so hung up on her that he didn’t care that she stood him up, or he came here for another reason. I chose to believe the former because I couldn’t make sense of him not being here if the latter was true.

“I’m saying that he stopped inviting her. He came here to see _you_.”

I wish that she would stop insinuating that Simon likes me. It is only going to hurt me more.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but—.” She starts, but I stop her.

“If he didn’t tell you, then you don’t know if it’s true, and I don’t want to hear any more about it. He doesn’t like me.”

“I think that you should talk to him,” she says gently, almost like a last-ditch effort.

“Why? It won’t make a difference. It won’t make him like me.” That last line slips out. I hadn’t meant to admit that I was wishing that he liked me, that it was something that I had been hoping for all summer.

She just watches me for a moment, and I shift uncomfortably under her strong gaze. It’s like she is searching me for something, but I have no idea what that would be. 

“Come on,” she says softly. “You’re both miserable. And don’t try to deny it,” she says when I open my mouth to protest. “I saw it in your face the moment that I walked in here. Even if he doesn’t like you like that – which I think he does – it is still obvious how much you both miss spending time together.” She pauses, waiting for me to say something, but I keep my mouth shut. “Talk to him,” she says once more.

“If he wanted to talk to me, he would be here,” I say stubbornly because I can’t be the person who reaches out. I can’t put my heart on the line just to have it broken.

“Summer’s going to be over soon,” she says, sliding off of her stool. “I would hate to see both of you spend the rest of it sulking when all you have to do is stop avoiding each other.”

I look away and refuse to say anything else. After a moment, she sighs and turns away, walking out of the diner without another word.

I spend the rest of the day replaying the conversation in my head, trying to make sense of everything that she said. A large part of me wants to believe her, believe that Simon likes me or that he misses talking to me. But it’s hard to believe that that’s true when I haven’t seen him in weeks.

 

** Missing You, Too **

**Simon**

I’m in my usual spot on the couch when there’s a knock on the door. I’m not expecting anyone over, so the only person it could be is Penny. For a moment, though, I find myself wishing that when I opened it, Baz would be standing there. He knows where I live, so it’s possible. It’s also very unlikely.

Sighing, I go over and open up the door, trying not to look too disappointed to see Penny standing there.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

“Can I come in?” She asks

“Sure,” I say, shrugging and stepping back to let her in.

We move back towards the living room, where I left the tv playing some old movie that I’ve seen countless times before. We’re both quiet as I pull my feet up onto the couch, bringing my legs to my chest. I stare at the tv, not watching it. I can feel Penny looking at me, but I pretend not to notice.

“So, do you have any plans for today?” She asks finally.

“Nope,” I say, popping the ‘p’.

“When was the last time you went out?”

“Yesterday when I went to work.”

“When was the last time that you went out that wasn’t for work?”

I shrug. “It’s been a while.”

I know exactly how long it’s been. The last time I went out just for fun was the last time that I saw Baz. I close my eyes briefly, thinking about him. I miss him so much that it hurts. I can’t tell Penny that.

“How long?” She presses, and I know that she has her suspicions about the last time that I went out. She’s probably not going to drop it until I tell her.

“A couple of weeks.” _Seventeen days._

“Simon.” Her voice gets really soft for some reason.

“What?”

“Are you saying that you haven’t been out since Agatha broke up with you?”

Right. That’s who she thinks that I’m missing. She has no idea how I feel about Baz. Maybe I should tell her so that she doesn’t think that I’m pining after my ex. Or maybe I shouldn’t tell her because then she might try to get me to talk to him.

That might not be a bad thing, but what would I even say to him? Would he even want to talk to me? I have avoided the diner for two weeks, so he probably wouldn’t want me to talk to him now. Maybe he forgot about me. Maybe I was always just another customer to him, nothing more.

It hurts to think about that, so I shake the thought out of my head.

“Maybe,” I tell Penny.

“Why not?”

I shrug again. “I haven’t wanted to.” _Not without seeing Baz_ , the voice in my head adds.

“Liar,” she says, like she can see right through me.

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“You could go to the diner,” she suggests.

“You said that I went there too much,” I say.

“No. I merely commented on the fact that you went there a lot.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“No reason.” _Liar_ , the voice says this time. _You miss him. You want to talk to him, but you’re afraid that you don’t mean as much to him as he means to you._

I shake my head, trying to rid it of those negative thoughts. They’ve been a constant over the past two weeks, causing me to not want to get up to do anything because my heart hurts.

“I talked to Baz,” Penny says suddenly, and I nearly stop breathing.

“When?” I ask, straightening up. “What about?” I try not to sound too eager, but I’m pretty sure that I fail.

“I went to the diner earlier today. I wanted to know why you were upset.”

“Why did you ask him?” She could have asked me. I wouldn’t have told her the entire truth, but it would have saved her the trip.

“I thought that he was the reason, that he hurt you or something.”

“He didn’t.”

He didn’t do anything wrong. That’s part of the problem. He was always so kind and caring and funny and cute and…. And I fell hard for him.

“That’s what he said.”

“You should have just asked me,” I tell her.

“He says that you haven’t been back to the diner,” she says, ignoring me.

“I just told you that.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t told me why.”

“I just haven’t wanted to.”

“You haven’t wanted to go talk to Baz?”

I shrug.

“You do,” she accuses. She knows me too well to believe my lie. “So, why haven’t you?”

“He could have called or texted me,” I say.

I wonder if he thought it was weird that I wrote my number on his coffee cup. He probably threw it away without saving my number. He simply came in for some coffee, and I had to go and do something stupid. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t talked to me since that day because I freaked him out.

I could have sworn that I saw him outside the diner the other day, though. I had looked up from behind the counter, to glance around at the customers. My eyes barely passed over the door, but in that small glance, I was certain that I saw him standing there. When I turned back to the door, though, there was no one there.

I’m still not sure whether I imagined him standing there or if he had been there but decided to leave instead of coming in. I don’t know which I would prefer to be the truth.

“What?” She asks, sounding surprised. So, that’s one thing that he didn’t tell her.

“I gave him my number,” I say nonchalantly, like it doesn’t matter. But it does.

“When?”

“That day.” The day that everything changed. The day that I lost two people who were important to me. “He came into the coffee shop while I was working,” I tell her, “and I wrote my number on the side of the cup. He hasn’t used it, though.”

“Maybe he thinks that you don’t want to talk to him. You haven’t tried talking to him since then. You should go visit him, try to fix this thing between you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

_Because I don’t want to get rejected by him._

I press my lips together. I don’t know if I should tell her. If I don’t tell her that I like him, then it won’t be as real. The less people that know, the less people that can watch my heart break.

“Come on, Simon,” she says gently, and I give in to her kindness. Because she’s my best friend, and I tell her everything.

“I have feelings for him,” I say quietly, not looking at her. “But he doesn’t like me.” It hurts to say it out loud, even if I’ve been thinking it for days.

“How do you know?” She doesn’t seem at all surprised by what I told her, and I wonder if I was that obvious about it. I wonder if he realized it, too, and wants to avoid me because of it.

“He didn’t text me.”

“Seriously? That’s your reasoning?”

I shrug. “If he liked me, then wouldn’t he want to talk to me?”

“The same could be asked of you.”

“I don’t have his number.”

She sighs and shakes her head at me. “You should just go over there and talk to him.”

“Ebb said the same thing.”

“You told her?”

“Yeah.”

“And she said that you should go talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“Then, why haven’t you?” She asks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I know it’s the right thing to do, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I admit.

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she says softly.

“And maybe I won’t.” There’s no point in getting my hopes up.

“Simon.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I tell her, shaking my head.

Thankfully, she doesn’t push it any longer.

**Penny**

“When’s your next day off?” I ask Simon, changing the subject.

He looks relieved that I’ve dropped the subject of Baz. It hurts to see him like this. He is usually so happy, but today, he looks like all of the happiness has been sucked out of him. He really cares about Baz, and if he would just go talk to him, he could be happy again. They both could.

“Thursday.”

“Okay. You and I are going to hang out that day. You need to get out of here.”

He looks around like he doesn’t see a reason why he would need to get out of this place, and that’s exactly why. He needs to be reminded that there is more to life than lying on the couch all summer, pining after a boy who is just as oblivious as he is.

I can’t say that to him because he wouldn’t believe me, just like Baz wouldn’t believe me when I said that I thought Simon liked him. It turns out that I was right. I just don’t understand why they won’t talk to each other.

“And go where?” He asks.

“I don’t know. Lunch or something. Maybe we’ll just walk around and enjoy the fresh air.” I try not to make it sound like I have a specific place in mind. If he knew that, then he would probably never agree to come along.

He frowns and looks like he is about to protest, but then he nods. “Okay. That sounds nice.”

“Great. I’ll come and pick you up around noon.” I stand up, ready to head out. “I’ll see you later, Simon.”

“See you, Penny.”

As soon as I leave his house, I start putting together a plan. These two need to talk to each other, or they are both going to go around moping for the rest of the summer. The first step is to get them in the same room. Then, I have to find a way to get them to talk to each other. For that, I’m going to need some help, and I don’t have very much time to put this plan into motion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny puts her plan into action, and Simon and Baz are forced to face their feelings for each other. Will her plan work, or will Simon and Baz go their separate ways?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said it would take me too long to finish this fic? Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Last night, I realized that it had been a month since I last updated, and I felt so guilty that I forced myself to sit down and write, so here we are. I really hope you all like it! <3

Penny’s Plan

**Simon**

Penny keeps her word, and when noon on Saturday rolls around, she’s there in my room, pulling me out of bed and telling me that she won’t allow me to stay in bed.

I was perfectly content to stay in bed all day. In fact, I had already decided that I wasn’t going to get up when she came in. I was going to sleep the day away. I had planned on texting her when she arrived, but I didn’t hear her knock on the door. I must have fallen back asleep earlier, so Ebb must have let her in.

“Get up,” she says when she walks into my room.

I don’t even have to open my eyes to know that she’s standing over me with her hands on her hips, scowling at me, trying to look angry but failing because there will be a worry line between her brows that gives her away. It’s been there ever since Agatha broke up with me, and I don’t see that changing any time soon. Even if we do go out today, it doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly going to find happiness and be alright again.

I’d rather just stay in bed for the rest of the summer. Screw Baz and his perfect hair. I don’t need him to have a good summer. My bed brings me enough comfort.

“M’sleepy,” I grumble, pulling my comforter up over my head.

“It’s noon.”

“So?”

“You don’t usually sleep this late.” The worry is evident in her voice now. “Never actually. You never sleep this late.”

“I’m changing,” I say, shrugging, even though she can’t see me.

“Come on,” she says with a sigh. I feel the bed dip on one side, and I know that she has sat down beside me now.

I push the blanket away from my face to look at her. She does seem worried, and I must look awful to make her act this way.

Fine. I’ll go with her, just this once. Some sun might be nice.

“Will there be food where we’re going?” I ask her, sitting up and running my fingers through my sleep-mussed hair.

She grins at me and says, “Of course.”

“Give me a few minutes to get ready.”

“Thank you, Simon.”

I’m not sure why she’s thanking me, but I give her a half-hearted smile before dragging myself out of bed. I already miss its comfort, but I can’t stay there forever. I have to face the world sometime. At least I’ll never have to face Baz again. We go to different schools, so it’s not like I’ll have to avoid him in any halls once school starts. I’ll just have to avoid the diner, which is kind of a bummer because I liked the food there.

I liked him more.

***

“Where are we going?” I grumble once more. It’s hot, I’m hungry, and Penny still hasn’t told me where we’re going for lunch.

We parked down at the end of the street, and she said that we were going to walk from there. I didn’t have a problem with that until I realized which street we were on. There is no way that she is doing this to me. She would never do that. She’s not that cruel.

“You’ll see,” she says. “We’re almost there.”

“Okay, but this looks like we’re going to the—. No,” I say firmly when I see what building she has stopped in front of. “I’m not going into the diner, Penny. I can’t.”

“Come on, the food is good there, and the service isn’t half bad either.”

“But Baz is in there,” I say, sparing a glance towards the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I wouldn’t mind seeing him. I just don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to see how little he cares about me.

“You don’t know that for sure. It could be his day off.”

“Or he could be in there.”

“Come on, Simon,” she says, sighing again.

“I can’t go in there.”

“It would be silly of you to stand outside while I go in.”

“I’ll just walk back to the car and wait for you.”

“Simon,” she says, her voice softening. She must have realized that I’m serious.

I can’t explain it. There’s this feeling in my chest. Like, if I were to step foot in this restaurant, my heart might break into a million pieces. I want to see him, but I don’t know that if I’ll be able to handle what comes after that. What if he treats me like just any other customer?

“Would it really be that bad?” She asks, sounding more than a little worried now. “If you really don’t want to go in, we can leave.”

“I really like him,” I tell her, glancing at the diner door. “I’m just afraid that I’ve messed things up so badly that he doesn’t even want to be friends anymore.”

“Do you want to go home?”

I chew on my bottom lip, thinking about it. I don’t want to go home. I want to go in and see what happens, but there’s an awful feeling in my stomach and a voice in my head listing all the ways that this could go horribly wrong.

I shake my head. “We can go in.”

“He might not be here,” she reminds me. “And if he is, maybe that will give you two the chance to talk.”

Maybe, I agree silently.

After a beat, she pulls open the door, and we step inside.

There’s an old song playing on the jukebox, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time that I have ever heard music actually being played on it. It could just be the first time that I’ve noticed, though.

I glance furtively around the diner, telling myself that I’m not looking for him, but I am. I just want a glimpse of him. I’ve missed seeing him.

There aren’t as many people here today as there are on Saturday afternoons, which is when I usually come. It’s an entirely different crowd than what I’m used to. The couple I’ve gotten so used to seeing aren’t here, and neither is Baz it seems. It almost seems like a completely different diner. Almost.

We sit down, and someone who isn’t Baz comes to take our order. I let Penny order for the both of us as I look around again, checking for Baz. I feel a mix of relief and disappointment that he isn’t here. Our new waiter’s name is Dev. I’ve seen him here a couple of times before, but he’s never taken my order.

Once he’s gone, I realize that I led Penny to the booth that I used to always sit in. I didn’t even think about it when we walked in here. It was like a reflex. It feels like something is missing, though, like the booth isn’t quite right.

It takes me a moment to realize that the something that’s missing is Baz. I feel my heart fall when I realize it. I miss him even more than I thought. It was easier to hold back these feelings when I was at home and ignoring them. Now that I’m faced with the reality of them, I just want to sink back into my bed and forget about—. No, not forget. I never want to forget about Baz. I just wish I didn’t like him as much as I do. It’s confusing and painful.

I just need some time to get over him. That’s all.

**Baz**

I step into the diner and hurry to the kitchen. I don’t take the time to look around the diner, but I have this feeling like something is different today.

Fiona called me a few minutes ago to ask me if I could come in. She said that there was some kind of emergency and that she needed me to come in and work. It was supposed to be my day off, but I don’t mind working. It helps take my mind off of a certain blue-eyed boy, even if everywhere I look, something reminds me of him.

Dev is behind the counter, and I wave a quick hello to himbefore going in search of Fiona. I find her in the kitchen talking to Cook Pritchard, but when she sees me, she stops talking to her and walks over to me.

“Thanks for coming in, Baz,” she says. “We’re kind of busy today, and I need you to help out.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding and not even questioning it.

“Will you take over Dev’s tables for a few minutes? I need him to come help me with something.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Great. I really appreciate it.”

Dev walks into the kitchen at the point, and I go to take his place behind the counter, taking a moment to look around the diner, to see if anyone looks like they need help.

It doesn’t look all that busy to me. There are only a few tables that are taken. Something seems off. Fiona wouldn’t have needed an extra person for this. Is she expecting more people to come in here?

I’m about to go ask her about it when my eyes settle on the occupants of one of the booths. It’s the one that sits two tables over from the door, offering a view of the bustling street outside. A familiar mess of bronze curls sits atop the head of one of the people sitting there.

_Simon._

I don’t think that he’s noticed me yet because he seems to be staring forlornly out the window, his head propped up by his hand and his elbow resting on the table next to the little basket of condiments. He’s sitting across from his friend Penelope, but he doesn’t seem to be listening to whatever she’s telling him.

What are they doing here? I mean, they’re obviously here for food, but couldn’t they have gone somewhere else? Anywhere else?

I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t at least a little bit happy to see Simon, but he obviously hasn’t come to see me. I wasn’t even supposed to work today. But I guess he doesn’t know that, so maybe…

I can’t let myself think about that. I can’t let myself hope.

The bell to signal that someone’s order is up dings, and I’m forced to pull my eyes away from their table. Two plates of fries and two milkshakes are ready to go, and of course, it’s for Simon’s table.

As I stare at the food that I’m supposed to carry over to them, I realize that I can’t do it. I can’t face Simon, not after all this time has passed without talking to him. I look into the kitchen, searching for Fiona so that I can tell her that I can’t serve that particular table, but she and Dev seem to have completely disappeared. It looks like it’s just me and Cook Pritchard, and I can’t very well ask her to take them their food. (Although, that thought is quite tempting.)

Sighing, I grab an apron and tie it around my waist. Then, taking a breath to try to calm my racing heart, I pick up their food and make the too short journey over to their table.

Simon looks up at me as I set down their food on the table between them, and he looks just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Mixed in with the shock is a look of something that I’m tentative to say is happiness because I know better than to hope for such things. He definitely didn’t come here to see me if he’s surprised by my presence. He was probably hoping that I wouldn’t be here.

That thought hurts, but it’s always best to be honest with myself. That way the fall hurts less.

I want to turn and hide myself away in the kitchen, but I have to do my job. I school my features, putting on a face of indifference, and I ask if I can get them anything else, asking it more to Penny than him because I know that if I look directly at him, I won’t be able to look away.

**Simon**

I just barely keep my mouth from falling open when I see Baz standing beside our table. I could have sworn that he wasn’t here before. I know because I looked all around several times before sinking into my seat, accepting that I wouldn’t seen him, confused about why this was so disappointing when I had been trying so hard to avoid him.

He must have been in the back somewhere. That, or he just got here. I find that I don’t care why he’s here or when he got here. I’m just relieved to see him standing there, looking exactly as I remember him. Except, he won’t look at me. At first he’s looking over my shoulder, and then he’s turning his gaze to Penny.

Right. Of course, he wouldn’t be happy to see me here. I was stupid to hope that he would be.

I turn to look at Penny, too, and she doesn’t look in the least bit surprised to see him. She looks almost triumphant. That’s when I realize that this was all a setup. She planned all of this.

She planned to bring me here so that I would have to face Baz. Time will only tell whether I’ll be grateful for that or never forgive her for it. Right now, it seems like it was an awful idea because Baz can’t even bare to look at me.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks politely, in the voice he usually reserves for customers.

He’s never used that voice on me. We were always friendly with each other, right from the start, so this is different. Unsettlingly different.

Granted, he directs the question to Penny, but that makes it worse, not better. It’s like he’s doing his best to pretend like I’m not there. Well, I refuse to let him do that. If he wants to completely sever all ties between us, he has to say it.

“No. We’re good,” I tell him.

Then, he finally, _finally_ , looks at me. Our eyes meet, and it’s like the rest of the world falls away.

I don’t see anything but him. All other noise fades away, the voices of the other customers and music playing from the juke box disappears. It’s just me and him now, here in this moment, facing the reality of what has become of the two of us.

I think Penny says something, but I don’t look away from Baz. I’m afraid that if I do, he’ll disappear again. I can’t let that happen. I have to talk to him.

Only, he has begun to turn away now. He’s getting away, and I can’t let that happen.

“Baz,” I say, so softly that I’m not sure that I’ve actually spoken, reaching out to catch his wrist.

For a moment, I’m afraid that he’s going to keep walking, but he doesn’t. He slowly turns back to me, his eyes questioning. He doesn’t pull his arm away, so I take a chance.

Keeping eye contact with him, I slide my hand down until it rests lightly in his. His brows furrow, but he still doesn’t pull away. I breathe a small sigh of relief. This is a step in the right direction, but it doesn’t mean anything, not until we’ve actually talked about whatever this is between us.

“Sit with me?” I ask him.

I look across the table at the other side of the booth, and that’s when I notice that Penny is missing. I glance around the diner and find her sitting at the counter with her food. She’s not looking directly at us, but I can tell that she’s watching us.

Definitely a setup then.

Baz releases my hand, and I almost panic, thinking he’s going to walk away and feeling like I’ve messed up, but then he slides into the booth across from me. I want to reach for his hand again, across the table, but I don’t because I don’t know if he would accept it.

Everything about this moment is familiar, but it’s also so different. There’s no longer the easy conversation between us. That has been replaced with an uncomfortable silence as we both shift in our seats, glancing at each other when we think that the other isn’t looking.

I pick up a fry from my plate and chew it slowly, not really tasting it and not feeling hungry anymore. I force myself to swallow it, looking out the window at the shoppers passing by.

I offer some of my food to Baz, but he shakes his head and looks away from me again. This is not going well at all.

When I imagined us reconnecting – which I did in between bouts of trying not to think about him – I thought it would be easier than this. I thought that I would be able to say something to put that tentative smile back on his face, the one that looks like he’s holding back, afraid to smile openly. I thought that we would be able to step right back into talking and being friends.

That isn’t happening, though. We can’t even manage to look at each other at the same time. I wonder if he feels obligated to sit here with me. If he doesn’t want to be here, he should just say that and go. He should stop dragging this horrible moment out if he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.

“I think this was a setup,” I say quietly, staring down at my milkshake. Might as well start somewhere, so why not start with the truth about why we’re here?

“I know.”

I look up, surprised. He still isn’t looking at me.

“Were you forced to come here, too?” I ask.

A strange expression crosses his face at something that I’ve said, but it’s gone again before I can figure out what it means.

“Fiona said that she needed help, so I came in. I can see now that she might have just been planning to get me here to see you.”

“I think it was Penny’s plan. She’s been trying to make me talk to you.”

He frowns. “You don’t have to talk to me. You can just go.”

“What? That’s not—. Is that what you want?”

He’s silent for a minute, searching my face for something before shaking his head. “No, that’s not what I want.”

We fall into silence again, neither of us knowing what to say. If he doesn’t want me to leave, then what _does_ he want? Surely he doesn’t want to just sit here in silence.

“I—.”

“Do—?”

We both begin speaking at the same time and laugh awkwardly at it.

“Go ahead,” I tell him, toying with my straw, as I look up at him.

“How have you been?”

“Lonely,” I admit with a grimace.

I don’t know why I tell him the truth. I could have said something else, but I don’t see the point in lying. Either I walk out of here with things fixed between us, or I leave and never come back. Those are the only two options that I see. I want the first one, but that won’t happen if I can’t be honest with him.

He looks surprised by the admission, but then he says, “Me, too.”

I smile sadly at him. We’re both idiots, and Penny was right. (And she’ll never let me forget that.) We’ve both been missing each other, and all we needed to do was talk. That doesn’t mean that he feels the same way about me, though, and my stomach does an unsettling flop at that thought.

Being friends is good, though. It’s better than nothing. I’d taking being just friends with Baz over having nothing with him any day.

“So, you aren’t mad at me?” I ask him.

“Why would I be mad?”

I shrug. “Because I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I haven’t exactly tried to reach out to you, so it would be hypocritical of me to be angry at you.”

“Right,” I say, remembering how he never texted me.

“Are you going to continue avoiding me?” He asks.

“No. It’s hard to be friends with someone if you aren’t talking to them.”

A slow smile curves his mouth, and I return it tentatively.

“That’s true,” he replies.

“So, we’re still friends?”

“Actually, I don’t want to be friends.”

“Oh,” I say, my heart sinking. It feels like he’s just stabbed me in the chest actually. I thought that we could work through all of this, but maybe not. I guess Penny and I were both wrong.

“No. I mean,” he pauses for a second, obviously thinking over his next words carefully.

I brace myself for the rejection. What he says, though, is not what I was expecting.

**Baz**

I try to tell him that I don’t want to be just friends, hoping that Penny was right about his feelings, and it starts to go wrong immediately. He looks hurt when I say that I don’t want to be friends, and I have to hurry to fix that before he tries to leave.

“I want to be more than friends.” I meet his eyes as I talk, needing to see his reaction. “And I was hoping that you want that, too.”

His bright eyes widen as he thinks over my words. The corner of his mouth starts to slowly turn up in a smile, and I wish that there wasn’t a table distancing us. I want to be closer to him.

“Yes,” he says, his smile growing. “I do want that.”

The space between us is too much now. I need to be near him. I need to touch him, to pull him close and—. There isn’t enough privacy inside the diner, so I make a quick decision.

“Let’s get out of here,” I tell him, feeling impulsive.

“What?” He asks, looking shocked. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Fiona obviously doesn’t really need me. Although… Give me a minute. I’ll just go tell Dev to come watch the counter. I’ll be right back. Wait for me?”

“Of course.”

I walk as quickly as I can without seeming too eager. I find Fiona and Dev easily. _Now_ they’re somewhere I can find them. I can’t say that I’m really that angry, though. Fiona’s meddling did get me this time to talk to Simon, and it worked out a lot better than I was expecting it to.

“Is it alright if I head out for a bit?” I ask Fiona.

“Sure,” she says with a knowing smile. “Dev can go back out there now.”

I don’t say anything else as I quickly remove my apron and head back out to where Simon is sitting.

“Ready to go?” I ask him.

“Yeah, just let me pay for this food.”

“I’ve got it,” Penelope says, seeming to appear out of thin air. I just barely manage not to jump.

“Are you sure?” Simon asks her.

“Yes. Now go.”

“Wait, what about you? I might need a ride home.”

“No, you won’t,” I tell him.

He looks at me incredulously, and Penelope laughs.

“I’ll drive you home,” I explain.

“Oh. I’ll talk to you later then,” he says to Penny.

Before they can drag this conversation on any longer, I reach out and take his hand, pulling him towards the exit. I no longer care how eager I might seem. I need to kiss him. Now.

I lead him around the building to the alley at the back. It’s private enough back here, and no one will see us.

“What are we—?” He starts to ask, but he stops talking when I push him back against the wall.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” I whisper.

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

_That_ , I think. I was waiting to be sure that he wanted it as much as I do.

I close the distance between us and press my lips lightly to his, just a brush of lips, a question of sorts.

He answers it by pressing his lips to mine with a little more pressure.

I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him close. I tilt my head to the side, and he deepens the kiss. He’s really good at this, moving his chin in a way that feels really nice. He pushes back against me, and I let him. I allow him to take the lead, and I just enjoy how good this feels, how right it feels, how perfectly our lips fit together.

I pull back to catch my breath, but I don’t go far, resting my forehead on his. I’m unable to keep the smile off of my face as our eyes meet.

“We should probably thank Penny,” he murmurs, surprising a laugh from me.

“Later,” I tell him, hugging him closer.

“Yeah…” He says slowly. “Later.”

Then, he’s kissing me again, and we stay like that for a while, kissing in the alley behind the diner, not caring whether anyone catches us. The only thing that matters is the two of us together in this moment.

 

Epilogue

**Simon**

Baz and I have been dating for a few weeks and a glorious few weeks they have been. Not much has changed for before, and yet everything is different.

Take right now for example. I’m sitting on a bar stool with an empty milkshake glass on the counter behind me as I lean back against it. That’s normal enough, and as I glance around the diner, it looks pretty normal, too. The only other customers here right now are Ellis and Janice.

Apparently, they knew that Baz and I would end up together, and they have been teasing him relentlessly about how worried he was. It’s cute. Baz is adorable when he gets flustered.

While everything seems just as it always has been, there is one major difference right now, and that is that Baz is standing between my legs, his hands resting on my shoulders as mine grip his hips, holding him there. He’s smiling fully, something that I’ve had the fortune to see a lot of since we’ve begun dating.

Dating Baz is even better than I ever could have imagined it to be. It gives me a reason to spend more time with him, and it doesn’t seem as weird when I decide to spend a couple of hours just hanging out at the diner, which I still do once or twice a week.

Baz refuses to let my pay for my food, though, and when I tried to pay Fiona without letting him know, she wouldn’t take the money either. She did tell me once to ask Baz about “the jar.” I didn’t understand what that meant, but Baz did. When I brought it up to him, his eyes went wide, and his cheeks turned a lovely shade of red.

“I’ll show it to you sometime when you come over,” he told me.

I still haven’t seen it. We haven’t hung out at either of our places yet. It’s mostly been visiting each other at work and walking around the park or town when we had free time.

He does come to the coffee shop to buy coffee sometimes (which I don’t allow him to pay for) but it isn’t as easy for me to just sit around and talk to him there since I’m more likely to get fired. It’s always a nice surprise when he shows up. It’s the highlight of my day. I especially like when he shows up when my shift is ending because it means that he plans on spending time with me.

Now, Baz is supposed to be working, but I decided to take advantage of the fact that the diner is mostly empty and pulled him to me. He didn’t complain as he stumbled into place or as I placed a quick kiss to his cheek.

I want to give him a real kiss, but now is not really the time or place for that, so I’m content with just being here with him. One of his thumbs is idly rubbing against my collar, and it feels perfectly soothing.

“Hey, boys,” a voice says from behind me.

Baz takes a step away from me, pulling out of my reach, and I try not to frown as I turn to face Fiona. She’s smiling at us so that hopefully means that she won’t get on to Baz for talking to me instead of working. She’s never done that before, though, and he only ever sits with me when there’s nothing for him to do at the moment, so I’m not really worried about getting him in trouble.

“Hi,” Baz says softly from where he stands behind me, too far away for me to feel his warmth anymore.

“Why don’t you guys get out of here?” She suggests.

“I’m still working,” Baz says.

“Not anymore. I’m giving you the rest of the day off. Go. Have fun.”

I can’t see him, but I think for a moment that he’s going to protest. He’s probably thinking about it, and he surprises me when he doesn’t

“Thanks, Fiona,” he says instead.

I feel his hand come to rest on my arm, and he spins me around to face me. He’s wearing that beautiful smile of his again.

“Do you want to go hang out?”

“I’d love to,” I say, sliding off the stool and coming to stand in front of him.

“What do you want to do?”

I think about it for a moment before grinning and saying, “We should try roller skating again.”

“Definitely not,” he says, shaking his head as we walk to the door together.

“Why not? You didn’t like when I had to take care of you?”

The tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink, and he doesn’t look at me as he holds the door open for me and says, “That was the one part that I did like.”

I laugh lightly, thinking back to that day. It was the day that I realized that kissing him was something that I thought about. Quite often. I was still dating Agatha back then, so I had shoved that thought away and chosen to forget about it. Now, I smile, knowing that I do get to kiss him if I want.

“Okay, no roller skating,” I say. “Why don’t you show me the jar then?”

He sighs, knowing that I’m never going to stop asking about it until I find out what’s in it, mostly because Fiona told me that I should keep on him until he tells me. I’m definitely curious about it.

“Fine,” he says, surprising me. “I actually have it in my car today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had planned on showing it to you when I got off later tonight.”

I look at him, surprised, before following him to where his car is parked, a little nervous now to find out what it is but also excited.

**Baz**

I’m not sure how I expected him to react when I showed him the jar, but he’s looking at me differently right now. He has this fond expression, and a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he looks at it.

“You really saved all of the tips I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“Just mine?” He’s raising a brow at me

“Yes.” I can feel my face warm.

He probably thinks that I’m weird. I shouldn’t have saved the money like this. It’s definitely weird.

“Why?” He asks curiously.

“Because I felt bad for accepting your money when you didn’t need to tip me.”

“Isn’t that what your supposed to do? Tip the waiter?”

“Yeah, but it’s really difficult to take money from someone who you’re crushing on. I would have felt guilty if I had spent it on myself.”

“Why? It was for you.”

“I know, but I wanted to find a way to return it to you.”

“I’m not going to take the money back.” He says, crossing his arms as if to prevent me from handing it to him.

“Which is why we’re going to go shopping, and I’m going to buy you something.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Why?”

“You really aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?” I didn’t think that he would ask so many questions about it. He simply shrugs at me in response. “I want to buy you something because I like you.”

“What if I don’t let you?”

“Why wouldn’t you let me?”

“I gave the money to you so that you could buy something for yourself. Not so that you could turn around and spend it on me.”

I sigh. “Fine. What if I buy something for both of us?”

“You’re still buying something for me with my money.”

“Technically, it’s my money now.”

He makes this sound like he’s growling, and it’s really cute.

“Come on. Just let me by my boyfriend something.” I love the way that word sounds on my boyfriend. I love having Simon as my boyfriend. “How about some art stuff so that you can draw more pictures of me?” I ask, slightly teasing him and watching the way that his skin flushes red.

He finally showed me some of the things that he’s been drawing when he comes to the diner. Most of them were just of the diner itself, but he showed me a few that he drew of me. He seemed really embarrassed by it, but I’ve never loved anything more. I wonder if someday I’ll fall in love with Simon or if this will just be a summer fling.

That isn’t something that I want to think about right now. We have a couple of more weeks of summer left, and I don’t want to waste them wondering about what will happen afterwards. If I get any say in the matter, we’ll stay together.

For now, though, I’m going to enjoy what we have together, which means that I’m going to buy him something.

“Okay, but I get to buy you something instead of you buying something for yourself.”

“Fine.”

He grins at me, and I kiss him before putting the money in my wallet and replacing the jar in the backseat of my car.

“Wanna walk?” I ask him.

We’re already downtown, and I would prefer being able to hold his hand while we walk to driving around looking for a different place to park.

“Sure.”

Then, he takes my hand in his, and I lace our fingers. We walk together, talking and laughing, happy to be together. We may not know what the future will hold, but I’m happy to live in this moment with him. This is turning out to be the best summers that I’ve ever had, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!! <3


	4. Bonus Content/Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some deleted scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably thought that you were done this fic, but you were mistaken because I have bonus content!
> 
> There are some scenes that I either cut out of the fic or couldn't make room for, but last night I decided that I would share a few of them with you all.
> 
> After this, the fic really is complete, though, and I wanted to thank you all for sticking with me and for all of the comments. I really appreciate all of it <3

Baz Tells Simon to go to a Coffee Shop

**A/N:** _This is a really short, incomplete scene that got cut after I decided to change Simon’s book into a sketchbook, but I wanted to share it anyway. It’s also set before Baz finds out that Simon actually works at a coffee shop._

**Baz**

I slide into the booth across from Simon, but he seems too invested in whatever book he’s reading to notice me. I clear my throat, and he holds up a finger, silently asking me to wait a moment.

I smile fondly as I watch him, knowing that he’s too distracted to notice my expression.

When he finally reaches a stopping point, he carefully marks his page and sets the book aside, giving me his full, undivided attention.

“You realize that if you want to read at a table, a coffee shop might be a better place for that,” I say. “It would probably be a better atmosphere for it.”

“Are you telling me to leave?” He asks, with a quirk of his brow.

“No,” I say too quickly, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Then are you asking me to go get coffee with you? Because I have a girlfriend, you know.”

My heart begins to race, and I hate it. That’s what happens when I fall for a straight guy. I get to hear about his girlfriend while wishing that I could be something more for him, knowing the entire time that that will never happen. The knowledge of this doesn’t keep me from doing something reckless.

“If you were single and I was asking you out for coffee, are you saying that you would say yes?”

His face colors, and he stutters out a few incoherent words before finally breaking eye contact, turning to look out the window instead.

 

Baz Goes to Simon’s House

**A/N:** _This is set right after the roller-skating scene, when Baz takes Simon home. I had parts of this scene in my head, but I never wrote it down because I couldn’t find a way to work it smoothly into my fic. I thought it would be fun to share it, though._

**Simon**

We pull up into my driveway, but I don’t make any move to get out of his car. I don’t want to stop spending time with him, but I don’t quite know why that is. It’s more than just wanting to get to know him as friends. I want to spend time with him outside of the diner, like we did today, but not when he’s getting hurt and I’m having to clean him up.

Although, that wasn’t too bad either.

“Do you want to come in?” I ask him.

He looks surprised by the question, and for a moment, I worry that he’s going to say no. He doesn’t.

“Sure.”

He cuts the engine and we step out of the car. I lead him up to the porch, pulling out my key to unlock it. My hands are shaking slightly. I don’t usually invite people over. Penny comes over all the time because we’ve been friends since forever, but even Agatha has only been inside once or twice.

It’s not that I don’t want people to see my house. It just feels like I’m showing them another side of me, a more private side. It took a long time for me to call this home because I was always afraid that Ebb would change her mind, that she wouldn’t want me any longer and would send me back to the system.

Sharing this with other people means sharing something very special with them. I want to share it with Baz, though. I feel like I can trust him.

We move into the living room, but we don’t sit down. He walks around, quietly looking at everything.

I watch him from where I stand in the doorway. He’s still wearing the shorts, and I can see the muscles in his legs as he walks.

I feel myself blush, and I’m glad that he isn’t looking at me. I don’t understand why I’m reacting this way or why I care what he looks like. I shouldn’t. Friends don’t usually think about each other this way. Right?

Baz drifts over to the mantle, and he stops there, looking at all the little figurines that Ebb has set up on it, all the ones that I have given to her over the years.

It began one year when I gave her a fragile goat for Christmas. It had been a little more than a year since she had begun fostering me, and I had just begun to realize that this was real, that she planned on letting me stay. She loved the little goat so much that I kept buying her little breakable figurines, all of them animals, for her birthday and Christmas, until she had a large collection of them. It’s like she has her own little farm in the living room now.

He moves from there over to the wall where some picture frames hang. Pictures of me. I didn’t think about those when I invited him in. They are all terrible pictures of me, and I’m horrified by the idea of him looking at them. It’s too late now.

“I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” I ask him.

“I’ll take some water,” he says, not turning away from the pictures.

I retreat from the room quietly and go to the kitchen to get a couple of water bottles from the fridge. When I return to the living room, he’s still standing in front of the photos, and I wish that he wasn’t.

“Thanks,” he murmurs when I hand him one of the water bottles.

He uncaps it and takes a drink, and I find my eyes drawn to his throat, to the way that his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. I can’t explain the fluttery feeling in my stomach that watching this produces, and I force myself to look away from him, to the pictures hanging on the wall.

“You were cute when you were younger.” Baz says, and my face warms.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye to see if he’s just teasing me, but I don’t think he is. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just takes another sip of his water, and we move towards one of the couches, sitting on opposite ends but turning to face each other.

“I noticed that there weren’t many pictures of you from when you were little. Are there more pictures somewhere else?” His eyes are alight with something strange, like he’s really hoping to see more. If I had more, I feel like I would show him, no matter how embarrassing they were, just to see that look stay in his eyes, but unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), there isn’t aren’t any others.

“I was a foster child,” I tell him quietly. I don’t just go around telling people this, but I want him to know. I want to tell Baz everything about me, and it’s a weird desire. “I didn’t come to live with Ebb until I was eleven, so that’s all there is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

I don’t want him to feel bad for something that was absolutely not his fault. I’m happy here, so it’s really not bad, and I don’t want him feeling sorry for me.

“Okay.”

We hang out and just talk for a while, and I only ask him about his knees a couple of more times, my cheeks warming each time, remembering how close we were while I cleaned them. For some reason, I want to be that close again. I shake that thought out of my head, filing it under things that I don’t want to think about ever.

 

Ebb Meets Baz

**A/N:** _I didn’t even consider having this scene until I was editing the last part, and by then, it was too late to find a way to work it in. I still wanted to write it, though, so here it is._

**Baz**

Simon reaches for the door knob, ready to step into his house, but I start to panic. I don’t know if I can do this. This might have been a bad idea.

“Wait,” I say, reaching out my hand to stop him.

“What?” He asks, turning to look at me.

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“She’ll love you,” he replies easily, like it’s a given that his foster mom will instantly her son’s boyfriend.

“How do you know that?”

“Because,” he says, thinking, and a stupid part of me thinks he’s going to say that it’s because he loves me. It’s much too early for that. “Because you make me happy.”

“I’ve also made you sad, though. What if she hates me for that?”

“She won’t.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” I argue.

“Baz,” he says gently, reaching up a hand to cup the side of my face and turn my head so that I’m looking at him. “She doesn’t blame you for that. I mean, I’m the one who was avoiding you and continued to do so after she said that I should just talk to you.”

“She did?” I ask. He didn’t tell me about that.

“Yes.”

“Why? She doesn’t even know me.”

“But she knows that I like you, and she wants me to be happy.”

“That doesn’t mean that she’ll like me.”

“Do you not want to meet her then?” He pulls his hand away from my face, but I catch it with my own, intertwining our fingers.

“No. I just—.”

“You just what?” He urges, looking up at me with those dazzling eyes that I could spend hours staring into.

“I don’t want her opinion of me to change how you feel about me,” I admit quietly, looking down at the ground instead of making eye contact with him.

“It won’t. I promise.”

I’m still not sure. What if he changes his mind?

“Baz,” he says, and I love the sound of name when he says it, softly, like it’s something important. He squeezes my hand, and I look up at him again. “Even if she doesn’t like you – which won’t happen – we’ll find a way to make sure that she does. Okay? Because I like what we have, and I don’t want to give that up.”

I feel a smile begin to pull at my lips. “Okay.”

“So, you want to go inside?” He asks.

“Yes.”

Instead of turning away, though, he leans forward and kisses me softly. It’s more smile than kiss, but it’s perfect.

He pulls away and opens the door, and we step inside.

His house looks exactly the same as it did the last time that I was where. It’s inviting and warm, everything that the house I grew up in wasn’t.

I guess neither of us had a great childhood, but we both eventually found a place that we could find home. I think that it’s something that I think brings us closer together.

There’s the smell of something cooking, and Simon leads me into the kitchen. I walk quietly behind him, my heart racing with nerves. His hand in mine is the only thing that is keeping me grounded, and when he lets go, it feels like I might float away.

“Ebb,” he says to the woman standing in front of the stove. “This is Baz.”

“Your boyfriend?” The woman asks, turning around to face us as she wipes her hands on a towel.

“Yes.”

She walks over to me, and I brace myself for whatever she’ll say, certain that she’s going to say that I’m not good enough for Simon.

But she doesn’t say anything, and before I know what’s happening, I’m being pulled into a bone-crushing hug. It only lasts a few seconds, barely long enough for me to register what’s happening.

“It is so nice to finally meet you,” she says when she lets go.

“And you,” I reply politely.

“Simon has told me so much about you. I’m glad that he finally brought you around.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. I wasn’t sure what she knew about me. I wonder what all he has told her.

“It was all good things, I promise.” She continues to talk, not allowing me the chance to think of a response, but I find that I don’t mind. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say anyway. “Will you be staying for dinner?” She asks, and that’s it.

I’m welcomed into her house like an old friend might be. She asks a lot of questions; about me, the diner, my aunt. It’s less of the interrogation that I was expecting and more genuine curiosity about who I am. I begin to notice that she’s a lot like Simon, and I slowly start to relax, no longer sure what I was so worried about outside.


End file.
